The Apprentice and The Enemy
by DSHunter
Summary: An old adversary of the 16 has gained an ally, and retribution is in the air. A bit EO. Livcentric.
1. Chapter 1

Hi everyone. Just to let you know this is my first ever fan fic writing experience. Let me know what you think. If you guys like it, I will keep the story going.

I have seen this on all writings, so I shall er on the side of caution and do the same. Disclaimer: Dick Wolfe owns them, I just play with them.

**Attica Correctional Facility**  
Exchange St  
Attica, New York 14011-0149

The walls were grey, as were the clothes he wore and the very chair he was sitting in. A sea of colorless grime as far as the eye could see; which was far too short a distance for his liking. At least he wasn't clad in an orange jumpsuit, with a ball and chain shackled to his ankle. But the alternative wasn't much better.

He had been wading through this grey monotony for nearly 9 years. Life was a routine of eating, sleeping and watching your back. He had no friends in here. His only glimmer of sweet serenity was outside these walls.

A smile crept across his face. She could always do that to him. Just the thought of her and he was a free man. He relished it.

There was a commotion in the common room. Looking down over the railing he could see two inmates fighting over the channel of the television. He was never one for watching TV, although it helped when a distraction was in order.

A guard came and broke up the fight, making the decision for them, like a parent with disagreeing children. The humiliation proved too much for the two frustrated men and they stalked off, each sending fleeting glances towards the other. Surely a plan of retribution was brewing in their heads. But he gave little thought or care to the goings on with the other inmates. His focus now lay purely on the screen.

He approached the stairs and took them two at a time to gain access to a chair closest the monitor. He slipped the headphones over his ears, catching the tail end of a news broadcast.

A male reporter sitting in a brightly lit studio had just finished advising the public that a murder had taken place in the Manhattan District, and they were going live to the scene.

The image changed to a stunning blonde holding a microphone in front of an apartment building in downtown Manhattan.

As he watched, he studied her body. Imagining what she'd be like to touch, to taste and ultimately how he could make her suffer, make her beg for his mercy. He imagined she wouldn't take long to break, with her delicate features and perfect poise.

She began describing the events of the evening as best her information provided.

A woman, mid to late thirties, was found raped and murdered in her apartment. The name and any other information about the victim were being withheld till family could be notified.

Though the reporter was unable to provide the information crucial to the police investigation he knew was surely underway, he didn't need to hear the facts from her pretty mouth. He knew the case well. Intimately if you will.

Although he wasn't their physically, he savored the imagined sensations. The feel of skin, bare and trembling in his hands; the taste of fear, ripened in the air, giving off an almost electrified current, the smell of blood, when it came, in all its aromatic coppery brilliance, all these too intense for him while sitting among so many men. He needed to be in his cell, alone, to be able to fully appreciate the lust such pain brought about.

Swept away in his blissful daydreams, he almost missed her. His one true love. She had appeared on the screen, in all her glorifying strength and defiance.

Although he had been keeping track of her since she helped lock him away, her appearance often changing, she was never more stunning than as she appeared to him on that screen. A dark shock of hair gently splayed across her left eye. And what beautiful eyes they were, almond brown and darkly transfixing. As if she could see right through you. Her figure had filled out a bit, which he liked. He imagined supple breasts and hips he could latch onto. She used to be more muscle than curves; he imagined that was her protective wall against the world she fought against. A world of evil men and their deeds; men like him.

She had become aware of the cameras, and was now looking directly at them. It was as if she was looking at him, and their eyes had met, like lovers across a darkened room.

He found himself next to the screen, pressing his hand in a gentle caress of her face. Her features responding to his touch.

He ignored the crude screams and bellows uttered by his fellow inmates.

"Move your crazy ass!" "Get out of the fucking way man, I can't see the screen!"

It was as if the room were empty, but for the two of them.

Just as quickly her image disappeared from the screen, as the man in the studio began rattling off sports stats from the latest games.

Broken from his reverie, Richard turned away from the screen and began his journey towards his cell, where he could be alone with his thoughts. Thoughts of her and that beautiful brunette his new pen pal had honored him with.

A smile spread across his face as he whispered to himself, "Olivia. My sweet Olivia. I shall see you soon."


	2. Chapter 2

1-6 SVU Squad Room

The double doors opened onto a bustle of activity. Olivia maneuvered herself through them carrying coffees and a box of pastries. She glanced around the room in bewilderment.

A tall dark flash moving to her right nearly knocked her over.

"Hey, mind helping me with these?" Olivia motioned towards the poorly balanced bundle in her hands.

Munch halted halfway through the doors and pivoted her way. He unburdened her arms and laid the savory delectables on the nearest desk. "Sorry Liv, in a bit of a mad dash."

She cocked an arched brow towards him, "I can see that. Did you catch?"

Rifling through the box, he piled a generous heap onto a napkin and snatched a coffee in his free hand. "Nah, got court in a few minutes. But there's been another hit by the Conqueror."

She suddenly appeared physically ill. "I hate that nickname. It makes my skin crawl."

Munch nodded, backing towards the door. "Yea, a nice pet name for our friendly neighborhood sexual sadist. Huang dubbed it, now it's chiseled in stone."

Motioning towards Cragen's office, with the door closed, Olivia could see Elliot, Fin and Lake standing around the desk, listening intently to every word.

Turning back to Munch, "I guess I should get in there. Good luck in court."

Munch mumbled through a mouthful of doughnut, "Let's hope the system prevails today."

Turning towards Cragen's office Olivia knocked on the closed door and gently opened it. Everyone in the office turned her way. Motioning for her to come in, Cragen continued on as if no interruption had occurred.

"We know his patterns, his M.O., the types of victims he prefers. What we need is something physical to connect to a perp. So far we have spermicide, but no sperm, plenty of blood, but it's all the victims, a profile but no physical description. Maybe this vic will be the missing link. Huang is in court right now, but he has been updated on the case and will be in later this afternoon." Turning towards Olivia, "As I'm sure you have gathered, the Conqueror has claimed another victim."

Nodding, Olivia glanced towards Elliot; his rumpled appearance mirrored the rest of theirs. They had been at this for weeks, with little headway on the case.

Cragen had turned back to the rest of the team. "I want all four of you at the scene. Get me something we can use to catch this guy."

Without a word they began to move towards the door. They were all sleep deprived, going on pure adrenaline and caffeine, no words needed to be said, they knew the drill.

Cragen shouted after them, "I don't need to remind you the press will be all over this, so tread carefully, and keep your tempers and lips in check."

This last comment, all knew, was directed specifically at Elliot. He had been bearing the brunt of the exhaustion due to both the case and having a new born at home. They all felt for him, but were too tired to say or give much comfort. The case was taking its toll on all of them.

As they exited the office into the hustle and bustle of the squad room, Olivia remembered her delivery. Grabbing Elliot by the shoulders she steered his zombie-like form towards the coffee waiting for the team in crisp white cups. Extra tall, extra shots and extra black. How they had been drinking them for over a week straight.

Elliot snatched up a cup, as did Fin and Lake. They all drank soundlessly as they gathered their coats for what was guaranteed to be a long day.

Following in their wake as they exited the doors, Olivia caught site of a white gleam from her desk top. Coffee in hand, she made her way over to the desk and saw a pristine white envelope lying face up. Scrawled in beautiful cursive was her first name, _Olivia_.

Knowing she should catch up with the guys, curiosity over took her and she reached for the corner of the envelope. Setting down her coffee, she grabbed a letter opener and skillfully swiped it along the crease. She pulled out a thin parchment, with delicate writing matching the scrawled name.

_My Dearest Olivia,_

_It's been so long, but I haven't forgotten. Not your smell or the feel of my blade against your neck, however fleeting. Not the sound of your voice or the look in your eyes when I reminded you of our union. We will forever be a part of each other._

_But I must not mix pleasure with business. I have been following your latest case. What a naughty boy he is. But quite skilled I hear. I'm a fan of his, I must say._

_Perhaps you might want to take a little ride to visit me. I may have information pertinent to the case. I could be persuaded._

_On one condition. You come alone. No Elliot, at least not this time. Although I do wonder how the kiddies are._

_Forever Yours,_

_Richard_

The letter lay where it had fallen, back onto the desk. Olivia stared down at the benign object as though it were a decaying abomination. She rubbed her hands, massaging at an invisible pain. As if the touch had burnt her.

"Olivia!" Startled she jerked her head up in the direction of her name. Elliot had come back into the squad room and was looking frustrated and edgy. He began to walk towards her. "What the hell are you doing? The Cap told us to get to the crime scene."

Without looking at him, Olivia snatched up the letter, folded it, reinserted it into its sheath and shoved it inside her coat.

She could feel bile rising up her throat and fought to keep it down. Shakily she began to walk towards the doors, avoiding Elliot's penetrating gaze.

Following her, Elliot caught her by the shoulder. "Are you ok? What were you reading?"

Shrugging him off, she continued down the hallway towards the elevators. "It was nothing. Just some mail." Trying to sound light hearted, "I may already be a millionaire."

He stared at her in concern. "You sure, cause you look a little green. Not getting sick on me are you?"

She gave a half hearted smile and a quick glance at his face, those eyes that could always break through her exterior shell, were boring into her. "I think this case is kicking all our asses El, I just hope something breaks soon."

He nodded, satisfied by her answer. "Maybe our boy made a mistake this time."

She looked down at her hands as the elevator made its approach towards the ground floor. "Yea, let's hope."

They exited the elevator and climbed into their assigned car without another word spoken. The drive to the crime scene was similarly quiet.

With every block they passed, the silence pushed in on them, almost suffocating. Olivia strained for breath, imagining the object in her coat pocket was a vice squeezing her chest, depleting her lungs of the very thing she needed to live. She rolled down the window and took heaping gulps of icy air.

Feeling a bit better, she closed her eyes, only to see Richard White's sickening gaze staring back at her. Jerking awake, Olivia looked at Elliot who was staring at her curiously. She stared back at him. "What?"

He turned and opened his door. "We're here."


	3. Chapter 3

Hey all, sorry it took so long to update. I got a new tattoo on my right arm and the pain kept me from typing for a while. I hope you continue to enjoy my story and reviews would be awesome. I'd like to know what you like, don't like, or anything else helpful. I look forward to any responses and will have another chapter up shortly.

Downtown Manhattan

Olivia threw her door open and took a minute to survey the scene. It was a frenzy of activity. The streets cordoned off, either blocked by men in uniform or thrill seekers straining for a peek at carnage.

Sure enough, Cragen had called it. The vultures had come to circle around the yellow tape; mics and cameras, flashes of light, voices fighting to be heard. She prepared herself for the onslaught of questions. Taking a mental note of where the thinnest portion of people were standing and making a beeline for it. Elliot did the same.

They muscled and maneuvered their way through the crowd, careful not to draw attention to themselves till they were right at the edge of the partition. Here they lifted their badges into the air, signaling to the nearest uniform that they belonged there.

They headed towards the open doors of the apartment building. A bulky officer, balding and clearly pushing the allotted leeway given during the required physical; stopped them with an authoritative grunt.

Olivia lifted her badge so he could see, "Detective Benson and this is my partner Detective Stabler, Special Victims."

The officer nodded, "I'm Jenkins, Homicide, your friends are already upstairs, 4th floor apartment 4B."

Olivia thanked him for the information and moved passed him into the apartment lobby. Not a bad piece of real-estate she thought, clean and seemingly safe. So much for first impressions.

Elliot took the lead, moving ahead of her towards the nearest elevator. While they waited for the doors to open, she took the time to scan the lobby, observing the people milling around. Mostly uniformed officers securing the scene, some plain clothed Detectives interviewing any potential witnesses, but it was one man in particular that drew her attention. He was fit and muscular, average height, with neatly cropped hair. At first glance, he was all together forgettable. But he had caught her eye, and was maintaining the contact. He was in plain clothes, but didn't give the air of an officer of the law. She wondered why he was there.

Startled, she broke away from her observation when she felt a hand on her shoulder. Turning she saw Elliot motioning towards the elevator. When she looked back, the man was gone.

"Liv." Elliot was holding the doors open.

She entered the elevator and tried to scan the faces in the lobby before the doors closed. The man was not among them.

Elliot was staring at her. "You ok? What were you looking at?"

She turned to face him, a bewildered expression playing across her face. "I'm not sure. I saw a man who seemed out of place. Not PD and not being questioned."

Elliot appeared to ponder this. "Maybe he was already questioned or waiting to be questioned. He could live here and was coming or going."

She was still picturing his eyes, the way he had stared at her. "Yea, you're probably right, but something just seemed off…"

Elliot looked exhausted, swiping his hand over his face and along his head. "Ok, we'll check on it after assessing the scene. See if any of the officers talked to him, see if he is a resident here."

Olivia nodded and leaned against the elevator railing.

A bell announced their arrival on the 4th floor and the doors slid open. Even more commotion paraded through the tight hallway, filled with uniforms, Detectives and CSU techs.

They made their way through the throng and found the open door of 4B. Peering inside they located Fin and Lake. They were crouched down by the body of a striking brunette. Warner was going over the wounds the woman had sustained.

Fin looked up as Olivia and Elliot approached. "What took you guys so long? You two fight over who was driving?"

Olivia smiled at him, "Yea." Pointing to Elliot, "Don't you see the damage I caused? He didn't know what hit him."

Fin snorted and stood to survey Elliot, who was feigning pain. "She kick your ass that bad?"

Elliot looked at Fin then at Olivia, "Nah, it was that god awful coffee she bought."

Olivia glared at him, "Fine, next time you buy." They all laughed briefly before focusing on the dreary task at hand.

Olivia took Fins place, crouching near the body and looked into the eyes of Melinda. She looked as weary as the rest of them.

"Hey, anything new you can offer? Did our boy make a mistake?"

Melinda sighed heavily. "This scene looks identical to the last one. Same ligature marks, by gloved hands, no fingerprints. Same spermicide, since he likes to wear protection. The knife marks appear to be the same weapon, striations appear similar. I'll need to examine them and the body back at the lab to be certain. I'll keep an eye out for any hairs, fluids or fibers. But if he's the same unsub; he's very tidy."

Olivia nodded, a feeling of weary defeat creeping into her body. It was always the same with this guy; nothing to use as evidence, no way to link him to the crime or come up with a suspect. They had canvassed the buildings and neighborhoods of every victim; searched for a pattern other than the M.O., some connection to a single person, but so far had come up empty. Maybe this victim, though already void of evidence, could provide the missing link to the killer. She hoped.

"Thanks, keep me updated." Olivia stood and patted Melinda's shoulder reassuringly.

Elliot, Lake and Fin were huddled together discussing the case. Olivia approached them yet held back, remembering the man in the lobby. Something was nagging at the back of her mind. Somehow he was key and she felt compelled to go back to the lobby and look for him.

Bypassing her partner, who was listening to Fin while rubbing his eyes tiredly, she headed for the door leading back out into the hallway. The guys and Melinda had the apartment covered, she needed to find that man and quell her curiosity.

She was alone in the elevator as it approached the ground floor. The silence and stillness suddenly surrounding her and she remembered the letter in her jacket. The idea of it so close to her made her feel sick, but she couldn't just discard it.

She thought about what Richard White had written. As disgusting and disturbing as it was, she wondered if he really did have information pertinent to the case. And if so, she would have to visit him. Without Elliot. That thought made her nervous and she felt a pang of guilt. They were partners, had been for 9 years, through good and bad. Not telling him about the note would make him angry, and she knew he'd never accept the idea of her visiting White alone, or at all.

Elliot was a protector by nature, and she appreciated it even when it frustrated her. But she couldn't let his need to protect her hinder a possible lead in the case. A case they had come up empty on.

The decision had been made. She would go see White, and if it led to valuable information she would have to face Cragen, Elliot and the rest of the team when the time came. If White was playing with her, she could walk away, a little worse for ware. She owed it to the woman lying exposed 4 flights up, a woman who deserved justice.

The familiar sound of the elevator's bell brought her attention back to her surroundings. Stepping through the doors, Olivia glanced around the lobby, but came up empty. She headed for the bearish Detective Jenkins, whose size dwarfed her considerably. He was ordering around a fresh crop of pubescent rookies, sending them to the front lines against the vastly accumulating crowd.

"Jesus. Keep them back!" He was shouting after them.

Olivia cleared her throat loudly, focusing his attention. "Detective Jenkins."

He turned and eyed her warily. "You done upstairs?"

She stepped closer to him, to ensure he heard her over the thrum of the crowd. "My team is still going over the scene. I wanted to ask you about a man I saw standing in the lobby when I first arrived." She directed his gaze to where he had been standing and briefly described him.

Detective Jenkins searched his memory but shook his head. "Not sure who you are talking about Detective Benson. None of my guys match that description. But you will be getting a copy of the list of residents and any witnesses. If your guy was here, he would be on that list."

She nodded and thanked him. Hearing a commotion outside, he exited the building and went to help the rookies deal with the ever expanding crowd. As she watched him go, somehow she knew that the mystery man would not turn up on any list.

She looked away from the mass that was Jenkins and scanned the crowd of observers. She looked for him there, tried to lock onto those eyes buried in a sea of faces. She did not see him.

But someone was watching her, through the scrutiny of a lens.


	4. Chapter 4

Olivia turned away from the amassing crowd and stepped back through the doors into the lobby. She had a determined air about her as she headed for the corner of the room, where the mystery man had been standing.

While she was with Elliot by the elevators, she hadn't been able to survey the area the man had stood, but she knew he had disappeared quickly. After all, she had only turned away for a moment.

The man had been standing just to the right of the front desk, which was now vacant while the apartment manager was being questioned. Olivia noticed a doorway even further off to the right. She approached it slowly and peered through a small glass window embedded in the door. The passage beyond appeared to be a service hall. The plate on the door supported this theory.

It read: Authorized Personnel Only

Her instincts told her this had to be the way the man had gone. Ignoring the warning system going off in her brain shouting out how unsafe it was to proceed without backup, she opened the door and entered the dark hallway.

As the door shut behind her, the hallway became eerily quiet. The thrum of activity that had been a constant since their arrival had been suddenly silenced.

Everything in her screamed to go back and get Elliot, but she kept going, one foot in front of the other. She heard a noise in front of her, somewhere down the long hallway. She couldn't tell where it had come from, but she proceeded in a defensive stance. Unclipping her holster and resting her hand on her weapon, she had not been given reason to draw it yet. But she was ready.

She looked through darkened doorways, scanning the rooms for any movement. She saw none. She had nearly reached the end of the hallway which ended in two doors. A fire exit, which if opened would have tripped an alarm. Clearly he hadn't gone through it. The other, to her left, led down to the sub-basement. She pushed it open and peered down into the darkness.

"This is Detective Benson with the New York Police Department, if there is anyone down there come up and identify yourself!"

Leaning against the door frame, she waited for a response or any sound that signaled someone was down there. After a minute of silence, she heard a rustling move along the walls and across the ceiling. Recognizing the whoosh of water moving through pipes, she relaxed. This must have been the sound she heard earlier.

Turning, Olivia began her trek back towards the lobby. She was wrong about him coming this way.

A ringing startled her and she cursed silently while reading the screen on her cell phone. Elliot had tried to call, but the service hall had masked the reception. She punched in her code to listen to the message she knew would be heated.

Focused on her phone, Olivia didn't notice the movement behind her till it had made contact.

She felt pain as her head connected with the wall to her right. An enormous pressure had her pinned against the wall, her struggles proving futile. Her mind was clouded from the blow. Disoriented, she tried to find her phone. She realized her hands were empty; the phone must have dropped during impact.

The fog lifting a bit, she got her leg loose and landed a hard kick behind her. She heard a grunt of pain, but the pressure against her never relented. A chill ran along her body when the feel of cold metal pressed against her head. She could feel his breath, warm and rapid, trailing along her neck up to her ear.

"Ah ah, Detective, let's not have any more of that." He pressed into her, his body crushing her against the wall. A strangled gasp left her lungs, fighting against the pressure.

Her mind was racing. She thought of Elliot and her team who were surely looking for her. She felt anger at herself for going in without backup, and a barrage of visuals began racing past her vision. Women, who had been brutalized, raped and murdered, probably by the very same man that now had her immobilized. And she had walked blindly into his grasp.

She needed to keep her wits about her. Gain control of the situation. There were only two ways out of this hallway, both would alert attention. She had to hope her partner would look for her and find the service door.

Then what? A standoff, with her as a hostage. Flashes of a darkened warehouse and a desperate man pointing a gun to her partners head came to her mind. They had been reckless then as she had been now.

A cold hand snaking around her stomach brought her back from her thoughts. He was touching her. She struggled to get away, free herself from his grip, but he pressed into her harder. Her lungs were screaming for air.

"Where you going? We're not through yet."

Panic was setting in and she began to tremble. The fear was involuntary and anger pulsed through her. Anger at this man for assaulting her. Anger at herself for losing control. She couldn't let herself be raped. She wouldn't become a victim.

"Let go of me…" she managed to gasp between desperate breaths.

"I've been waiting along time detective. You smell and feel as good as I've imagined. But the times not right yet." Leaning in, he pressed a kiss against her cheek as she tried to pull away.

She began to feel the pressure along her back lighten, allowing her to breathe easier. As he stepped back, Olivia started to turn and land a blow to his face.

A crushing pressure spread across her left temple. And all was black.


	5. Chapter 5

"Liv…"

She felt weightless, as though immersed in water. She heard Elliot's voice. Turning, she saw him smiling at her. She smiled back. She felt safe with him. She looked around but didn't recognize where she was, turning back towards El, searching for an answer. Then she saw him, his eyes burning into hers. Elliot was gone, replaced by the cold eyes of a man she had seen across a room, a man who had put a gun to her head. She pulled away from him as his smile broadened. He reached for her and she fought back…

000000

Light struggled to fill her vision. A fog was lifting and she could sense a physical presence close to her. She struggled against it. Punching and kicking, she would not go down without a fight. The feeling of strong arms encircled her, held her down. She screamed out.

"Liv…Liv!" Elliot's worried face began to emerge in her blurred vision.

"El…?" Her voice sounded frail, distant. Not like herself at all, which scared her.

"Liv honey, a bus is on its way." Fin's soothing baritone eased her tensed muscles. She allowed herself to relax, the danger had passed.

Looking around, she saw Elliot and Fin leaning over her. She was lying on the ground, still in the service hall. Lake was a few feet away, trying to get a signal on his phone.

"Wha…what happened?" She was looking at Fin, trying to avoid Elliot's piercing gaze.

"We were hoping you'd tell us baby girl." Fin held her hand and was kneading circles into her palm with his thumb. "We found you lying here with a nasty gash." He motioned towards her left temple.

Becoming aware of her injury suddenly brought the pain flooding back, causing her to lie back down. She closed her eyes against a wave of dizziness and nausea.

"Liv, what were you doing back here?" Elliot's voice was soft, barely audible.

Her memory was returning, and she felt a flood of guilt, knowing she had acted recklessly. Pursuing a suspect without backup, neglecting to inform her partner of her whereabouts, she knew she could be dead right now. It was time to fess up.

Sighing heavily, she struggled to open her eyes. When she did, she locked eyes with her partner. "I was pursuing a possible suspect. I know I should have called for backup. I'm sorry."

Olivia looked for the first hint of anger, bracing herself for the rage Elliot had been known to exhibit, it never came. Only concern was etched into his features, which slowly morphed to sadness and pain. "He could have killed you Liv…" He broke eye contact, looking down at the ground, shaking his head. "We're partners; we're supposed to trust each other. I would have come with you, backed you up."

"I know. I acted recklessly and because of it I lost the suspect." She was beyond disappointed with herself. Her actions had hindered an arrest and could have ended her life. Her trust and credibility would take a blow with both herself and her colleagues.

"Well, at least you seem to be ok." Fin was trying to refocus the conversation, afraid of where it might lead to.

"Yea…" Olivia was still looking at Elliot, who had yet to return her gaze.

She heard Lake announce the arrival of the bus. Paramedics were on their way to check on her condition. She closed her eyes again, her head swirling. At least she was alive.

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Although she had argued, she lost the battle and was transported by bus to the nearest hospital. Her head had been stitched up and she was now lying in a bed under observation. Doctor's orders after any loss of consciousness, they had told her.

Elliot, Fin and Lake had stayed behind to finish up at the crime scene. At this moment Olivia would give anything to be back there with them. She hated hospitals. And she especially hated being seen as a victim. Doctors and nurses checking on her, whispering about what had happened, due to the media attention this case had gained. She was not looking forward to tomorrow's headlines. _Olivia Benson: Fights the Conqueror and Lives_... or better yet, _New York City's Finest Let Conqueror Escape_. Whatever the direction of the news, whether she is painted as a hero or a failure, she knows the truth. She messed up and more women would suffer. Any future victims would be her fault.

For a blessed few moments she was left alone. Since the story of her situation had been announced, peace and quiet were a rarity. Now that she had it, she used it to think. Going over the day's events, bypassing her obvious failures and how it would play out when she arrived at the squad room, she took note of what information they had gained. She knew what he looked like. She would be able to get a sketch out and for that she was grateful.

Something bothered her though. Why had he left her there? Why had he let her live to be able to make the sketch? Surely he knew she could i.d. him. Why would he take that risk? Then she remembered something he had said. "The times not right _yet_." Did that mean he was coming back for her? If so, she'd be ready. And she would stop him.

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After a night of observation, she was released by her Doctor. Rolling her eyes now as she made her way down the hallway towards her apartment, she heard the Doctor's voice scolding her like a child, telling her to take it easy and not go into work. Didn't he know her job was never done. The criminals never rest, so neither could she.

Once in her apartment she walked over to her answering machine, the red light flashing violently, demanding her attention. She hit the button and headed into her bathroom, listening to the disembodied voices of her colleagues and friends send their well wishes. Apologizing for not visiting her in the hospital. She understood, this case had them going at all times, none of them had time for themselves, let alone her. One voice hadn't carried across her apartment, and its absence left her dejected. She stared at her weary and broken reflection in the mirror and wondered how much damage she had done to their partnership.

Leaving the mirror, she stepped into the scalding water of her shower, ready to wash last night's events off her skin and out of her soul.

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She made her way to the precinct without stopping to glance at the papers. Only stopping once for a fix of strong coffee, she avoided any eye contact. She had become part of the media frenzy and knew that any further attention and she'd be removed from the case. Cragen would view her as a target and a liability, rather than an asset. She couldn't let that happen and hoped that it hadn't already.

She approached the doors to the squad room but hesitated before going through. Was she ready to face everyone? One person in particular.

With a deep breath and all the bravado she could muster, she pushed through the doors and made her way towards her desk.

The squad had gone silent. All eyes were on her. She felt like a Petri dish experiment.

Setting her coffee down, she finally dared a look towards her partner's desk. It was empty.

A great feeling of loss overtook her and she fought back the sudden urge to cry. What the hell was going on? Had she damaged her relationship with El so badly that he was avoiding any contact with her? She took a deep breath and did a mental check. No, she was overreacting. Elliot was fine, they were fine; he was just late. She hadn't slept much last night and was thinking irrationally.

She felt a hand on her shoulder and nearly jumped out of her skin. Turning quickly, she saw Munch looking down at her sympathetically.

"You doing alright?" All sign of humor missing, replaced by concern.

She leaned back against her desk, the weight of the previous night weighing her down. "Yea, as good as can be expected when you've single handedly blown a case and been whacked in the head." Her biting sarcasm pouring out like venom.

Munch took her comments in stride and leaned towards her, engulfing her in a hug. Stunned, she sat for a moment, rigid as stone before succumbing to his gesture of friendship. "Liv, we all know you didn't damage the case. Your head maybe, but not the case."

She laughed and relaxed a bit. Leave it to Munch to find humor in any situation.

Pulling away, Munch continued to stare down at her in concern. "The Captain asked to see you as soon as you came in. I was told to pass that along." He stole a glance up at Cragen's office.

Olivia turned and did the same. Heaving a sigh of relief, she spotted Elliot, wedged between Fin and Lake. A feeling of Déjà vu came over her, remembering yesterday's arrival. How much simpler life had been. Then she was just one of many cops on the trail of a killer, now she was a pawn in the game he was playing.

Turning back to face Munch, she saw him staring at her. "What?"

"What happened in that hallway Liv? Did he do anything besides hit you in the head?" His expression showed a glint of fear. And realization dawned on her. They must all be wondering. Had she been assaulted? She didn't want to answer, didn't want to think about what may or may not have happened, or what might have happened. Better to forget any aspect pertaining to her and focus on catching him.

She avoided Munch's gaze. Shaking her head, she turned back towards her desk and took a long gulp of her coffee, buying time she thought guiltily.

"Liv…" Munch stated quietly. Too quietly, he was talking to her like she was a victim.

"No Munch, he didn't do anything but crack my thick skull." Her words came out blunt and with and edge. She hadn't meant to snap at him, she knew he was only concerned about her well being, but she wouldn't stand to be treated like a victim.

Before giving him time to respond, she put her coffee down and carved a path towards Cragen's office. People moved out of her way as she approached, avoiding the storm that was brewing within her.

The door to Cragen's office opened and Fin exited followed closely by Lake. Fin stopped when he saw Olivia, a mix of emotions played across his face. Relief followed by concern followed by pity, as they heard Cragen call her in.

She locked eyes with Fin as he passed her. Lake nodded when he saw her, she nodded back.

She entered Cragen's office and looked from her captain to Elliot. Elliot was now seated in one of the chairs that flanked Cragen's desk. He looked worn and numb, as if he would crumble before their eyes. Another pang of guilt punched through her as she took the seat next to him. He had avoided her eyes, which both angered and saddened her. What was he, five years old and giving her the silent treatment?

She turned her attention to her Captain, who had yet to speak to her as well.

"Captain, I know I screwed up…" She started before being cut off.

"Oh, you did much more than that Detective." His words were low and tight. "You ignored police procedure, put your own life at risk, and gave the media a new stone to throw at the NYPD."

"Not to mention I blew the case." She figured if the crucifying would happen now, then she should get it all out.

"You very nearly did." His voice was softer, more fatherly disappointment.

"I did. I blew it. I had him and I lost him. Any future victims are on my head." She was angry now, furious with herself and her poor judgment.

"Olivia…" Cragen had abandoned anger and was now deeply concerned. Olivia had always been harder on herself than any of his Detectives. He feared it would destroy her someday. "You made a bad judgment, but you haven't blown the case. We're still where we were before; no real damage has been done, except to you. What did the doctor say?"

Olivia was stunned into silence. She had prepared for an ass reaming. Screams and shouts and threats of suspension and badge revoking. Not concern. Not the fear she saw in his eyes. She would have gladly taken the anger.

"He cleared me. A few stitches, a bit of a headache, but overall I'll live." She avoided his gaze, looking instead at her hands. She didn't want the next series of questions. Wanted to avoid the direction the conversation was taking.

"Was the blow to the head your only injury Olivia?" Cragen's voice had once again taken on its air of authority, and she had to meet his gaze.

"Yes…" She glanced at Elliot, who was looking at her with an unreadable expression. Averting her eyes back to her Captain, she relayed the events that had occurred in the hallway up until she blacked out.

When she had finished, Cragen asked the questions she had been going over and over again in her head. "Why did he let you live Olivia? He could have easily killed you."

She avoided the conclusion she had come up with and threw out a basic idea. "He probably knew that if he took the shot, all manner of law enforcement would be on him in seconds."

"Liv…" Elliot had released a gush of air he must have been holding a long time. "You know as well as we do that he could have killed you any number of ways…" His quiet declaration trailed off, he didn't finish his thought.

Cragen spoke up, looking worriedly at both his Detectives. "But he didn't, and I have to believe there was a reason behind it." Focusing on Olivia, his gaze unyielding. "Olivia now is the time to be honest. Is there anything you haven't told us? We need to know what's going on."

She silently reached into her coat and pulled out an envelope. Without a word of explanation, she handed it to her Captain.

Elliot just stared as Cragen pulled out the paper and read the contents. Staring at the page for what seemed like hours, in which a heavy silence lingered in the air like pollution, and Olivia started to feel the familiar sensation of suffocation.

"Captain…" Elliot's voice broke the silence and Cragen looked up into Olivia's eyes.

"How long were you going to keep this from me?" Anger was seeping into the lines on his face.

Elliot leaned forward, staring from Cragen to Olivia and back. "Let me read it." His statement was not a request, but a demand. Cragen handed him the letter without a glance. His gaze was still locked with Olivia's.

"Well… What do you have to say for yourself Detective?"

Olivia could feel Elliot tense, as he placed the letter on Cragen's desk. Discarding it as if it were tainted. He had turned to stare at Olivia as well, his gaze burning a hole into her.

Olivia stood up and began pacing. She was shaking from all that had happened in the past 24 hours. She didn't look up to meet their eyes, just began to defend her actions about the letter.

"Before we had arrived at the crime scene, that letter was all we had. My thoughts were on whether or not White was telling the truth about having information. We had nothing to go on and this was a possible lead. I had to consider it."

"Do you have so little concern for your own safety…?" Cragen's voice had an edge to it that she seldom heard. This stopped her pacing, but she kept her eyes averted.

"You were going to go alone, weren't you?" El's voice had matched her Captains, and she felt trapped, like a caged animal.

"It was the only way El. I knew how you'd react. I couldn't let my safety or your concern prevent us from obtaining the only possible lead we had."

"I am your superior and you are my responsibility Detective. Your safety _is_ my concern!" His voice had been slowly rising and now echoed throughout the small office. She was sure the entire squad could hear.

"…and this case is mine. Finding and stopping this guy is all I'm concerned with." She had met his gaze and struggled to hold it, still feeling the sting of Elliot's to her left. She would not back down.

"This may not be your case for much longer." His voice was low and menacing, and the threat was not idle.

"I may have screwed up yesterday, but because of me we now have a visual description of our perp!" She was shaking with anger. "Your concern for my safety could hinder this investigation. White is a sleaze, but he is also offering information without prompting. Which is something he has never done. Infact we haven't heard from him in nine years, which begs the question, why now? Obviously he knows something and is eager to share."

"Or he wants to screw with you. Get in your head! That's what he does Liv!" Elliot had joined the fight, guns blazing.

"Don't you think I'm aware of that? Don't lecture me on Richard White. I put him away El. I know what he's capable of, how he works. But I'm not about to ignore a possible lead just cause he disgusts me." Turning to Cragen, she calmed herself and spoke as cool and rational as possible. "Captain, you know as well as I do we have little to go on in this case. White is in a maximum security facility, with guards, cameras and plenty of safety precautions. I am a trained officer, not a civilian."

"…and a lot of good it did you last night." Elliot's words were like a punch to the gut. Never before had he questioned her ability, or put her down so blatantly. She knew he was tired and angry, but he was her partner and her friend. If they didn't believe in each other, what did they have? His words felt like a betrayal.

She said nothing; simply let a fiery presence press between them, before continuing.

"I will be reasonably safe within the walls of a prison interrogation room and will take any extra precautions you deem fit, but my instincts tell me this visit is worth it Captain."

Cragen sat back and let a deep frown crease his forehead. He was not happy about any of this. Last night's events, the possibility of putting his Detective in harms way again, and he resented the case entirely. But his need for justice was outweighing his concerns. This man had brutally raped and murdered four women and had attacked one of his Detectives, he wanted him to burn.

"Ok."

"Captain!" Elliot's protest was met with a silencing hand.

Cragen looked at Olivia. "You will visit White, but you will be watched at all times. An armed guard will be placed right outside the door. And a microphone and camera will be watching and recording the entire meeting. He asked that Elliot not be in the room, but he can be right outside." He again leaned back in his chair, his face a mask of worry and exhaustion. "You know I don't like this."

"I know Captain. But thank you anyway."


	6. Chapter 6

I'm so excited that people are enjoying my story. This can get addicting I've realised. Well, here's a quick chapter. Stay tuned, cause I'm still writing right now.

**Attica Correctional Facility**  
Exchange St  
Attica, New York 14011-0149

He had acted impetuously and very nearly ruined all their plans. But they hadn't been ruined; things had worked out and were still going smoothly.

His anger turned to laughter as he thought of the pluckiness of his new friend. Lurking around the scene of the crime, waiting for her to come to him. He understood the allure of such risks, the anticipation and the thrill of the hunt. Feelings he could only experience vicariously. At least for now.

He had begun pacing in his small cell. Surely she had received his letter. Picturing her face, he imagined her stunned reaction to hear from such a long lost friend. Had she been afraid? Did her pulse quicken at the thought of him? He was enjoying the idea of how his presence in her life again was affecting her.

Maybe he was responsible for her recklessness with his friend. That type of influence held power, and he relished it. It was like a sweet nectar. Fear, control, dominance, all of these had been his tools in his chosen craft.

Did his young friend understand the power these abilities wielded? Surely he used them to his advantage, but he was brash in his conduct. He would be a strong pupil; he simply needed discipline to refine his skills.

And who better to hone them on than her.


	7. Chapter 7

Several hours had passed since they left Cragen alone in his office.

Olivia and Elliot now sat across from each other in silence. He hadn't said anything to her upon her return from her meeting with the sketch artist.

She knew her actions within the past 24 hours had been none-to-wise, but Elliot needed to get over it. They had a job to do, and as partners they needed to do it together.

She stared at him, boring a hole through the top of his head. But if he was aware of it, he wasn't letting on.

Fin looked up and met her gaze. He glanced briefly at Elliot then back at her, shrugging, letting her know he wasn't sure how to break the awkwardness either. He looked down again and continued with his paperwork.

She sighed audibly and stood up. Fin and Lake looked up, but Elliot stubbornly kept his eyes glued to the pages in front of him.

"I'm going out for coffee, any one want any? Unless you all still fear my coffee choices?" She was trying to break the silence, playing off their last real conversation as a group. But her efforts failed miserably. Elliot shook his head and moved towards the filing cabinet behind her.

"Sure Liv, sounds great." Fin smiled lightly at her. Lake nodded and uttered a thanks.

"I got some Liv, thanks." Munch said gently.

She turned and left the squad room, not looking back.

Elliot went back to his chair and sat down.

Fin stood up and walked over to Elliot. Feeling a presence looming over him, Elliot looked up into the dangerous face of Fin Tutuola. "What…?"

"Let's go for a walk El, we need to talk." Fin's words were short and serious. Elliot glanced at Lake, who stared nervously at his colleagues.

Munch stood up and fell in beside Fin. "I'd like in on this little powwow."

Fin remained staring at Elliot, who had adopted an air of defiance.

Fin motioned towards the doors. "Move it Stabler."

Standing so quickly, his chair flew back and collided with the desk behind him. Elliot stormed out of the squad room, with Fin and Munch in tow.

Outside the precinct Elliot turned towards his fellow Detectives. He gave them his most formidable stance. "Whatever you have to say, just get it out."

Fin was not deterred by Elliot's demeanor. "What's your problem man?"

"You should stay out of it." Elliot was leaning in dangerously close to Fin.

"Nah, you see, we're a team, or have you forgotten that?" Holding his ground, Fin raised an accusing finger towards Elliot.

"She's the one who's forgotten that!" Elliot stepped away from Fin and began walking down the street.

"We all make mistakes Elliot, give Liv a break." Munch was calling after him.

Elliot stopped and pivoted back towards Munch and Fin. "Give her a break? She went after a suspect she knew to have murdered four women without backup. She concealed a correspondence with Richard White, another dangerous killer who incase you have forgotten once put a knife to her throat! Now she has the Captain allowing her to visit him in prison." He stopped, his anger appearing to drain from his body. His voice was barely a whisper as he continued. "She apparently feels she can handle things on her own, and wants to, so why should I get in her way?" With that, Elliot turned and headed back into the Precinct.

Fin and Munch exchanged troubled looks, then followed him back inside.

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Olivia was sitting by herself at a table in the corner of a café. With her back against the wall, she was able to survey everyone coming and going. It was both a protective stance and an observation tool she had adapted early on. Now it was simply habit.

She drank her coffee, slow and methodically. Feeling the sting of its heat as it flowed down her throat, it was a good pain, a distraction from her thoughts. Thoughts of the case and of Elliot, which were constantly trying to permeate her mind, and she was tired of focusing on them. Instead she began to visualize the caffeine spilling into her blood stream, speeding up her heart rate ever a fraction more. She told herself to focus on her body, on her surroundings and not the stubborn man she left behind at their joined desks.

But he was always in her thoughts. He was the one constant in her life, had been for nine years. What would she do if they couldn't get past this? Her relationships with men were generally short lived. She was married to the job, and Elliot was a part of that. He understood that dedication, and used to respect that in her. Now she wondered if she had lost that respect. If he had lost faith in her, as a cop and as a friend. She didn't know if she could take it.

All she had was her job and…Elliot. Now she understood exactly what Elliot had felt that moment in the hospital, after Gitano had taken something precious from both of them. All Elliot had at the time was her and his work. And she had abandoned him, thinking she was protecting him and the public. Now she could see what that moment's decision had done. It had instilled a fear in Elliot, fear of abandonment, fear of trusting in others, especially her. The recon in Oregon, though not her fault, had deepened that cavernous rift between them and strengthened that fear.

She wondered if that was why he had returned to his ex-wife in the dark of night, paving the way for the security another child could provide. It's not always a guarantee, but being Catholic, Elliot would be obligated to return to the role of father and husband. Regaining the stability he had lost when his family fell apart. A stability she had failed to provide. She could see the pull that those things could have. Especially for a cop. Especially for El.

She had thought they were doing well. That their relationship was blossoming; that their partnership was stronger than ever. With all they had gone through in the past few years, hell just within the last couple months, she felt they needed each other more than ever. She was sure Elliot had felt the same way, especially after that hug…

Which she still thought about, all the time. Remembering the sensation of his arms embracing her, how strong and safe they had felt. At that moment she knew she couldn't survive without him; her life would be empty without Elliot Stabler in it.

But deep seeded fears never die easily, they just go dormant. And Elliot's had been awoken with a fury when she stepped into that service hall. She had further compounded those fears by keeping White's letter a secrete from him. That rift had been blown wide, and she wondered if it was possible to get back to the other side, back to where Elliot remained. Or if they would forever be on opposite sides, never reaching the other.

A buzzing near her hand gained her attention and she looked down at her cell phone. She hesitated, her hand hovering over the moving object. She really didn't want to answer it. She was not ready to deal with anyone at the moment. But duty called and she needed to be available at all times to her team and the case.

She picked it up and spoke automatically. "Benson."

"Hello Detective, miss me?" A cold voice cooed through the phones speaker.

Fear and panic gripped her and her body went rigid. She remained silent. Her mouth had gone dry, her throat constricting.

"I know your there Olivia, I can see you." His voice was a dare. He was playing a game with her, and the next move was hers.

She began scanning her surroundings. The faces of her fellow patrons. Were any of them on cell phones? Hell the entire world was on a cell phone. _Shit_. Where was he? She didn't see him.

She leaned forward and scanned the street through the window to her right. Too much traffic, too many people. She would never find him. But he could see her.

She sat back, all she could do was play along.

"I'm waiting Detective." His voice calm and even.

"How did you get this number?" She needed to gain information.

"I know a lot of things." His voice never wavered. "…about you."

She swallowed. She couldn't let him intimidate her. "Where are you?"

"Close enough. Why, do you want me to come closer Detective? Did you enjoy our time in that hallway as much as I did?" He was clearly enjoying himself.

"I will never let you touch me again." Her tone was deadly. All she could think was give me another chance asshole and I'll take you down.

He laughed, low and guttural. "You seem pretty sure of yourself. You weren't so tough against that wall." His voice dropped to a whisper, and she had to strain to hear him. "I have big plans for us you know. What I'm going to do to you, to your body, will make what I did to those other women seem merciful. You will beg for death before I'm done."

She refused to allow fear to pervade her expression. She couldn't show weakness or he would have the power. The hand not holding her phone began to tremble and she placed the palm flat against the table top, constricting its movements.

"You don't scare me asshole. You got the jump on me once, it won't happen again."

"You don't seem so sure Detective. You see I know you screwed up. You had me cornered and you lost me. You failed those women. You failed your department. And you failed your partner. Now you have no one, and that has made you weak." His words were slicing into her, chiseling at her defenses. She couldn't let him break her down, but her doubts were overwhelming her. "You're a failure Olivia and you're alone. It's just you and me now."

"Go to hell…" She was gripping the table with such force, her knuckles were solid white.

"We can go there together…" His voice had become a growl. "I can already taste your pain."

Olivia heard a click and then nothing. The call had ended, but she sat holding the phone in her hand. She couldn't move. She couldn't do anything but replay his last words over and over in her head… "_I can already taste your pain_."

Her confidence, her brave façade was crumbling. She had been threatened before and never let them affect her. But this guy was in her head. He had already incapacitated and violated her. He was everywhere, and she could feel it. And the worst part is she _was_ alone. She had seen to that by thoroughly damaging her relationship with her partner, her best friend.

She needed to get out of there and back to the precinct. But never in her life had she been so scared of going out onto the streets of New York. With it's faceless crowds and dark alleys. She had vowed to be fearless, yet she couldn't get herself to move from behind the table.

Everything in her screamed to call El. He would come and protect her, with those strong arms that she remembered. He was all she knew, all she had ever really trusted. Why had she ruined things between them? She needed him and he wasn't there.

No. She wouldn't let this happen. She wouldn't give in to the crippling fear. She had to get past it and get her phone back to the precinct to be traced. She needed to catch this bastard.

Taking a deep breath, she focused again. Replacing her fear with anger and hate. Hate for the man who had butchered four women and had gotten into her head. She would not let fear rule and she would never let him win.

She stood from the table, still on shaky legs. Steadying herself, she grabbed her phone and made her way back out into world.


	8. Chapter 8

I know, I know. I left you all hanging again with this chapter, but it's late and I'm tired. I wanted to get something up for your hungry eyes though, so enjoy.

Disclaimer: I have no idea if there is a payphone at that corner, I live across the country from NY. Someone could go check for me. lol

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The trek back to the precinct was hurried and full of furtive glances over her shoulder. She felt his presence all around, his eyes following her every move. Alert and ready for a strike at any moment, she kept her hand poised over the holster on her hip. Remaining aware of her surroundings, worry flooded her mind about the possibility of drawing it in public, where the crowds were so dense.

She had been ready for an attack, but none had come. He never surfaced.

She told herself it was because he was a coward. That he was only trying to rattle her, prevent his capture. But rationality prevailed and she knew he would never strike in such a public location, daylight leaving no cover for the launch of an assault. Which meant he was still out there, biding his time. She would need to be vigilant.

As she crossed the threshold of her precinct, her body slackened; the tense muscles that had been in defense mode now relaxed at the sight of so many uniforms. For the moment the building around her was a fortress and she felt safe inside its walls.

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Olivia stepped through a door into a room filled with computers and a multitude of tech equipment. Scanning the room, she spotted a dark haired man seated behind a terminal, the glow of the screen illuminating his face.

He looked up as she approached, a smile spread across his face. "Hey Detective Benson, what can I do for ya?"

"Hey Morales, I need a favor." She handed him her phone. "I need you to trace the last call that came in. And I need that information as soon as possible."

"No problem, consider it done." He pulled up a new window on the screen and began typing in a series of numbers. "Is this for a case or personal?" The smile on his face grew wider.

She returned the smile, though less enthused, and leaned in so not to be overheard. "This is for a case, but for now let's keep it on the DL. Ok. Right now I'm not sure whether the information will even pan out. "

"Sure thing Liv. Let's hope it does." He was once again focused on the screen. A flurry of fingers began clicking away at the keyboard. She was reminded of her brief sojourn in the computer crimes division. Which led to memories of why she had gone there, and she quickly pushed the thoughts aside.

"Bingo." Morales turned to face her with a look of satisfaction.

She leaned in closer. "You found it? Anything useful?"

"Whoever the caller was, he was using a payphone. Corner of 57th and Broadway."

Olivia was out the door as Morales shouted after her, "Liv, your phone!"

She darted back in and grabbed it off the desk. "Thanks Morales. Sorry about the quick exit, the window is closing as we speak."

He smiled and waved her away. "I understand, go."

000000

Olivia Burst through the doors of the squad room. Ignoring the quizzical looks from her coworkers, she made a beeline for Cragen's office.

After a brief series of knocks, she opened the door and met his gaze. "Captain, I need to speak with you."

He motioned to the chair she had occupied earlier that morning.

She sat down. "Before I explain, I need you to send a CSU unit to the payphone on the corner of 57th and Broadway. They need to hurry; any trace evidence could already be disappearing as we speak."

While plying his Detective with a questioning look, Cragen lifted the receiver to his ear and began to dial. Once the CSU team had been dispatched, he cleared his throat and leaned forward. "Mind telling me what that was all about?"

"He called me." She was fidgeting in her chair. Uncomfortable having to recount what had occurred just an hour before. She had yet to fully process everything and didn't want to crack under the pressure of her Captains scrutiny.

With a sigh, she began.

000000

Elliot remained at his desk, trying to focus on the case files lying in front of him. The work had become impossible. Every word was blurred together. In frustration he leaned his head into his hands, trying to ignore what might be happening in Cragen's office.

A barrage of ideas were attacking his mind. Something had happened; some critical discovery and he had been left in the dark. It was his case too damnit. Or maybe she had decided to leave again. That's how it always ended, with her leaving. They always left eventually.

Deep in thought, he didn't hear his Captain calling to him. "Elliot."

For the second time that day, someone was hovering above him. Elliot looked up into the constricted eyes of his Captain. He could see it in his face, something was terribly wrong.

"What is it?" The muscles in his body contracting, tensing against the blow his Captain's words could strike.

Aware that all eyes had landed on them, Cragen leaned in close to Elliot. "You should come into my office. There's something you need to hear."

Fear seizing him, Elliot struggled to get his body to follow his Captain into the small office. Shutting the door behind him, Elliot stared at the small form of Olivia leaning forward in a chair, a look of apprehension on her face.

Bracing for the worst, he stared at his Captain who had returned to his seat behind the desk.

"What's going on?" Elliot hated the unease in his voice.

Cragen met Elliot's gaze, then shifted to Olivia. Cragen's voice low and gentle,

"Olivia, you should tell him."

Staring at the ground, she began to shake her head. "I can't. Not again."

Cragen had moved from around the desk and now sat on its edge, resting a hand on her shoulder. "He deserves to know."

"Please, you tell him." Her eyes remained locked on the ground.

"Tell me what?" Elliot's voice came out clipped. He was getting agitated, not sure what to feel. Worry or anger, concern for his partner or bitterness towards the possibility that he had been called in to discuss their separation. Everything rested on Cragen's next words, and Elliot listened with trepidation.

Sighing, Cragen looked up at Elliot. "The Conqueror called her cell phone."

All previous thoughts were washed away as the significance of his Captains words hit him. He had called her, gained access to personal information that few knew. What else did he know about her? He looked down at his partner and all he could think about was how to protect her, how to keep her safe from a monster lurking in the shadows.

"How did he get her number?" He was looking again at his Captain.

"We don't know, but Morales traced the call to a payphone. CSU has been sent to the scene." Cragen squeezed Olivia's shoulder gently. "If he handled that phone without gloves, chances are we'll get prints. There's also a good chance he's in the system."

"What did he say?" His question left the room silent. Not backing down, Elliot asked again. "What did he say to her?"

"He threatened her Elliot." Cragen was avoiding the specifics. He feared Elliot's reaction if he knew how serious and disturbing those threats had been.

He knew his Captain was being purposefully vague, but he had to know. Olivia wasn't just his partner, she was his best friend. She was the closest person he had in his life, the only person who knew him inside and out. He needed to know exactly what this sick bastard had said to her, what his intentions were, though he feared he already knew.

"I need to know what he said." When neither Olivia nor Cragen answered, Elliot moved to Olivia's side and kneeled down. He took her hand and she looked into his eyes. "Liv, please, I need to know. What did he say?"

Olivia again looked at the ground and took a deep breath. Her voice was flat and barely a whisper. "He said his plans for me will make what happened to his other victims seem merciful. That I will beg for death."

She looked at Elliot again, her features a mix of anger and determination. "I would never give him the satisfaction."


	9. Chapter 9

The sketch of the Conqueror had been released; circulating throughout New York's police departments, on air via the evening news, and door to door canvassing at every crime scene.

Reports were streaming in from all over the city and every available officer was tracking down leads, most resulting in a dead end. The phone's never ceased their shrill cries for attention and Elliot was teetering on the edge. He had been assigned to phone duty while awaiting Olivia's return from her mandatory meeting with Huang, on the insistence of their Captain. Fin and Lake had been put on field detail, retracing their steps at every scene with the sketch Olivia had provided. Munch was down in the lab going over results from the last scene with Warner.

Although the constant barrage of calls kept him alert, his mind was focused on where he would be in a couple hours' time. Seated in a cramped room with a door between him and his partners safety. She would be alone with a man that still haunted his memories.

He was suspicious of White's intentions, and was not satisfied by the supposed precautions they had prepared. Without his presence, or any other guard in the room, all impressions of safety were an illusion. It wasn't just her physical body he feared for, but her mental state. He remembered how White had affected her; how he could get into people's heads and manipulate them. Olivia was a strong and formidable opponent for any perpetrator, but this case had left her drained, which put her at a disadvantage. And he knew White would exploit any crack in her resolve. Elliot was afraid for her.

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She was seated on an overstuffed couch, trying her best not to relax to the point of allowing sleep to cloud her vision. She could feel exhaustion tugging at her eyelids, zapping her strength. She began to wonder when she had last experienced recuperative rest, and realized she couldn't remember.

Huang was seated across from her behind his desk. He seemed to be taking her appearance in, studying her, and she imagined herself behind a glass two-way being observed by men in white coats. She didn't like the feeling of being watched and analyzed, not even by Huang, who she had come to trust and respect as a colleague.

Huang had a calming air about him, a soothing voice indicative of psychologists to instill a feeling of safety and assurance. "How are you doing Olivia?"

Her guard was up. At the moment she was afraid, not of a physical foe, but of her emotions. She needed to remain in control; any slack and her resolve could crumble, leaving her vulnerable to Huang's dissection. "A little tired but I'm doing alright, considering."

"Considering what…?" It was a logical question, yet it left her frustrated with herself. She had given him an in, a reason to continue. Maybe she did want to talk. But too much and her spot on the case could be in jeopardy.

She sighed. "How about this case and our sheer lack of forensic evidence, or the butchering of four women and a serial killer who's out there right now probably hurting another one."

He nodded and gave her a knowing look. "How does that make you feel?"

"What…?" She was sensing a trap.

"That the killer is still out there; that he could be hurting someone else." He was fishing and she knew it.

She wouldn't take the bait. "Angry. Pissed off."

"Is that all you feel?" He was on to her. _Damnit_.

She took the bait. "Guilty. Ok… I feel guilty."

"So you feel responsible for him still being out there?" He had leaned forward, was listening intently.

She had to be careful. Consider what was safe to say. "Well, I mean, in a way I am. I disregarded procedure and allowed a dangerous perp to get away."

"You allowed him to escape? From what I've heard you were ambushed and knocked unconscious. Why do you feel responsible for things out of your control?" He was reassuring her like a victim. They all had done it in their time at the 1-6, its textbook when dealing with victims. But she was a cop and maintaining control was part of her job.

Anger filling her voice, she needed to make him understand. "I lost control of the situation, let my guard down, which meant I was unable to do my job. If I had called for back-up, if I had successfully secured the scene, the perp wouldn't have escaped. He'd be sitting in a cell right now waiting for trial. Instead he's out there, probably torturing and mutilating more women, and it's my damn fault!" She had clenched her fists into tight balls, which she found strength in.

"So you believe any future victim will be a result of your actions?" He had leaned back again and was writing with fervor in a small notepad.

Not wanting to respond, she released a breath, buried in it was her answer. "…yes."

"You seem to be relieving the killer of an awful lot of responsibility. Did you make him kill those four women?" He had stopped writing and was leaning closer to her. "Are you making him kill again?"

She hated his logic. She knew he was right, yet the guilt still ate away at her, she did still feel responsible, at least for not stopping him. She hesitated before answering. "No." It was a defeated sound.

"We all make mistakes Olivia. Although we tend to hold ourselves to higher standards because of our jobs, taking on the role of protector, we _are_ after all human. I think we forget that, until it's pointed out to us by our own fallibilities." He was trying to soothe her again. This time she let him.

"I know…" She had leaned back, closing her eyes against his words, against her own fallibility, the weaknesses that she carried with her but dared not show.

"I heard you're visiting a prisoner this evening, a man who once stalked and threatened you." He was shifting the conversation, and she wasn't ready to delve into White.

Her eyes remained closed. "Yes."

"Are you ready to face him?" There was the question on all their minds.

"Yes." She paused, considered her situation. "I need to be. I don't have a choice."

"We always have a choice." He sounded so rational, but his statement brought about a reaction in her.

"Yes. You're right, I do have a choice. I can go and have a little chat with a man I abhor, who once tried to kill me, and possibly get a lead in the case. Doing so, could bring justice to those four women and stop a killer from hurting anyone else. _Or_ I could go home and forget what my job is." She gathered up all the strength she could muster. "_Look_, we deal with scum, men who prey off the pain of others, and that's what White is. It's nothing new." Her sarcasm had morphed into cool reserve. She had gone back into defense mode with full force.

Huang sat in quiet confidence, not phased by Olivia's reaction. "The thought of seeing Richard White again scares you, doesn't it?"

She looked up and met his gaze. "Yes."

000000

"Thank you for the information…we'll be sure to inform Lucky's Chinese that their bus boy is the Conqueror." Sighing loudly, Elliot returned the phone to its home. Sure that it would be a short visit.

"I'll be sure never to order from them again…"

Looking up with a smile spreading across his face, Elliot saw his beautiful partner sitting on the edge of his desk. He didn't miss a beat. "Damn, and I had such a craving for egg roles."

It felt incredible to be joking with her again. She smiled back at him and everything that had occurred in the past few weeks melted away. Nothing could be bad when she smiled; the world was a better place simply because she was in it. He just wished she knew it.

His phone began to shriek again, and he looked at it with resentment. The moment shattered by this little foe.

Olivia looked at the phone then at her partner. "Dinner?"

He smiled again. "You're hungry?"

"Not really, but I want to get out of here." She looked around at the chaos in the squad room. "I need some quiet time before tonight."

Remembering his earlier thoughts, he nodded. Standing up, he pulled her into a protective hug. Instantly she was brought back to the day of the accident, standing with him in that hospital hallway. His strength and reassurance just as wonderfully protective as she remembered.

"Everything's going to be alright…" He was whispering so faintly she could barely hear him. "…you're going to be alright."

"Thanks El…" She fought hard to keep tears at bay.

Elliot pulled back and encased her shoulders in his strong hands. He looked into her eyes and smiled broadly. "So…Lucky's it is."

Laughing, she gave him a fake jab in the stomach. "Watch it Stabler, I can still kick your ass."

He had grabbed his coat and was headed for the doors. "You'd like to think so…"

She had grabbed her own coat and was following him out. "What…you want a demonstration?"

Laughing loudly, they exited the precinct onto the streets of New York.


	10. Chapter 10

I know, don't kill me. I'm not leaving you intentionally hanging...well maybe a little. But I'm seriously tired, and at least I got up two chapters. Writing Huang kicked my butt, he's a challenging guy. Tomorrow big things are coming for this story. No pressure for me right? lol Hope you all enjoy it so far.

**Attica Correctional Facility**  
Exchange St  
Attica, New York 14011-0149

Leaning up against the locker that now housed her gun, belt, and any other items deemed unsuitable for prison safety, Olivia felt naked and vulnerable. She was about to face Richard White for the first time in nine years, and she felt stripped of her authority.

With a sigh she opened her eyes to find Elliot staring at her. She did her best to smile, somehow feeling the need to comfort him, even though she was the one walking into the lion's den. "You worry anymore and you're going to get old before your time El." She smirked and pointed to his forehead, creased with worry lines. "See, you're already getting wrinkles."

He smiled at her and leaned in as if whispering into her ear. "Look who's talkin'. I think I see some grey hairs in there."

She elbowed him playfully. "You better be joking Stabler."

He sat down on a nearby bench and shot her a challenging look. "You know, I think you have officially crossed over to spinster status."

Still leaning against the locker, she gave it a light kick behind her. "You are aware I can still reach my gun, right?"

Elliot broke out in laughter, soon joined by Olivia. It was tense humor, laced with the unease of the situation. But they felt better knowing humor could lighten the mood.

A buzzer broke the revelry, and they both looked up to see a squat balding man flanked by two prison guards.

The shorter man led the way over to the two Detectives and reached his hand out. "Detective Benson and Detective Stabler, I'm Warden Crowe, here to say welcome to Attica." He shook both their hands and steered them through the doorway he had just exited. "So I hear this visit is under unusual circumstances, involving an active murder case, but the inmate is not in question for the crime?"

Olivia erring on the side of caution kept things vague. "We believe the prisoner may be in possession of valuable information that is pertinent to our case."

The Warden's eyes got wide. "This wouldn't happen to be the Conqueror case? That's all over the news."

Elliot broke in. "We really can't discuss an active investigation, you understand?" Elliot caught Olivia's look of gratitude and he smiled at her.

"Oh yes, I see. You know Detective…" He turned suddenly to face Olivia. "I saw that _you_ made it into the news as well, your little brush with the Conqueror. That must have been a scary ordeal." He was fishing for information and neither Olivia nor Elliot gave any up.

"It's my job to go up against dangerous men, Mr. Crowe." She was getting annoyed by his pushiness and his little habit of glancing down at her chest. Clearly he was a man of high class.

Smiling broadly at Olivia. "You can call me Gary." She smiled weakly at him, struggling against the temptation to roll her eyes.

Elliot gained the Warden's attention. "Detective Benson and I were wondering if all the security was in place?"

Elliot's physical presence caused the Warden to increase the distance between him and the two Detectives. "Oh yes, right. Well, the camera and recorder are set up in the room. There will be a guard posted outside the door, as requested, plus we always have at least two guards nearby at all times, if there is a prisoner meeting with someone. I suppose you are already wearing a protective vest Detective?"

Olivia nodded. She had been decked out in full Kevlar, just incase White managed to slip a weapon through security. Elliot had insisted, and there was no arguing with him on it.

"Well, Ok. Seems that everything is in order." He had ended their trek down a long hall and pointed to a door behind him. "Through here are our prison interrogation rooms. The prisoner is in room 2." He had turned to Olivia. "That's where you will go in." Then turning to Elliot. "You and a guard will be in room 1, there are adjacent doors and a one-way mirror. You will be able to observe the entire interview."

He turned back to Olivia with a broad smile. "Good luck Detective." Motioning to his guards, they headed off in a different direction. Olivia watched them go, the top of Crowe's head disappearing into the distance.

She turned to face Elliot. "Ready?"

He looked at her with a serious expression. "…are you?"

She glanced at the door and back at Elliot. "Not really, but let's just get it over with, Ok." He put an arm on her shoulder. She imagined extracting strength from Elliot's powerful presence, using it to recharge her waning fortitude.

Steeling herself away from the safety of Elliot's presence, she closed her eyes and mentally prepared herself for facing White. For days she had dreaded this moment, but knowing he was so close, made it too real. That through the doorway standing before her was a man she still had nightmares about. And now she would be alone in a room with him.

She needed to gain back her strength. She was Detective Benson, a protector of victims, a fighter of monsters, and a righter of wrongs. Her life's work amounted to this moment; facing her demons in order to save lives and bring justice to those already snatched away.

Feeling her resolve returning, she looked straight ahead with a fire in her eyes. She was ready.


	11. Chapter 11

The trip through the short hallway was far too short. The door shutting behind them, Olivia glanced up at Elliot. Their eyes met briefly. She smiled faintly and nodded, signaling he should go into the first door. He hesitated for a moment, then opened the door and went through, letting it shut behind him.

She was now alone, standing just outside the door to where White sat waiting for her. Just by getting her here, he had won the first round, and she knew it. Always a dangerous game she played with monsters.

With a deep breath, she turned the knob and opened the door.

White smiled broadly at her from his position behind a large table. Not wanting to immediately meet his gaze, she scanned the room, taking in every detail. A large mirror rested on the wall to her left, looking into it, she took comfort in knowing Elliot was behind it. A camera was set up directly to her right, focused on White. A small tape recorder was lying on the table in front of him. The door leading into interrogation room 1 was near the mirror. Satisfied she knew the lay of the land, she turned to White, meeting his gaze with fierce intensity.

"Hello Olivia, I see by our visit that you received my letter." His eyes never leaving her, he began to study her body, taking in every curve, until he rested again on her face. "I wanted to send a token of appreciation, but alas, florists don't take orders from prison."

"Show me your hands White." Ever vigilant, she needed to make sure he was properly detained before approaching.

Smiling even broader, finding humor in her precautions, he raised his hands which were handcuffed. "You can feel safe now. I have the nice bracelets on, I can't hurt you."

She walked over and pulled a chair away from the table. Taking a seat directly across from White, she grabbed the tape recorder and switched it on. She spoke into it, "This is Detective Olivia Benson with the 1-6, Special Victims Unit, interviewing Richard White at Attica Correctional Facility. In regards to case number 79816." Setting the recorder down in front of White again, she looked up to meet his gaze.

He had been watching her intently, an amused look on his face. She knew he was enjoying every moment, and a slight shiver traveled up her spine. Not allowing him to rattle her, she pressed on. "Mr. White…"

"Richard Olivia, please call me Richard. I think we're past the formalities." He had leaned forward, pushing the boundaries of her personal space.

She held her position, never wavering. "…in the letter you sent, you claimed to have information regarding our current case. Could you share with me the nature of that information?"

"I could…" He leaned even closer. "Depends on what you can do for me."

She could feel his presence close to her and unease began to set in; she held it at bay, but only just. "So you want a deal?"

"I could be persuaded, yes." Smirking at her rigid form, he leaned back, and watched her body slacken a bit. He was enjoying the show, amused at this simple power.

"What are your terms Mr. White?" She kept her hands clasped together on the table in front of her, displaying an air of authority and control.

"Richard Olivia…its Richard." She would think he was struggling, that she was winning their little game.

She held his gaze, wanting the interview to be over already. White was acting like a child struggling for attention; she wondered why she had feared him so much.

He leaned forward again, very close. "How about a kiss…?" Seeing a slight look of disgust play across her features, he watched closely as she regained her poker face. She was even more fun than he remembered. He leaned back again. "No…? Ok, how about moving me to a nice cushiony stint in Fulton or Cayuga? I could finish out my time without always watching my ass. Whaty'a say?"

His smug demeanor irritated her. She smiled slightly, wanting to tear him down a few notches. "As I recall you're in for life Richard, with no hope for parole, that's a long time to finish out."

She was trying to play and he liked it. He smiled back at her. "All the more reason to go to a nicer facility, don't'cha think?"

"I guess…" She moved on, ready to continue the interview. "I will make arrangements with the DA; see what I can do for you. Deal?"

He leaned in. "I have your word on that?" He held her gaze firmly.

"Yes." She stared back, trying to read his expression. She wondered if he really had information. So far he was sticking to the informant script, making deals and securing promises. She had a feeling the game was worth it.

"Good." Smiling, he leaned back in his chair and rested his hands on the table. "You can ask me your questions now."

"What is the nature of your information in regards to this case?" She waited silently for his response.

Still leaning back in his seat, he appeared to be deep in thought. "I know him. Your companion in the service hall." He watched her reaction with acute interest. His comment had rattled her, ever so slightly. It was there. He had seen it. "Surprised I know about that?"

"No, it was all over the news. You claim to know the Conqueror?" She had to maintain control.

"Oh I know it was in the news, the papers had some nice photos; I quite enjoyed them." He was just getting started. "I'm referring to his hand, how it caressed your smooth stomach, how his breath, hot and moist, danced along the nape of your neck, and a gentle kiss, left behind as a token." He was leaning closer as he spoke each word. "How he had waited, his first whiff of your smell, the lust it induced into his fevered mind. The words he spoke into your ear, like a patient lover. _The time's not right_. _Yet_…" His eyes were locked onto hers, watching the fear and understanding gather in her eyes. "You see Olivia; I know everything, because I taught him."

She stared into his cold eyes, full of quiet power. She realized she had underestimated his role in the case. His game was real, because he had a stake in the outcome.

Her throat had constricted, her mouth was dry. She felt as she had when talking to the Conqueror. Now she faced two men, two killers who had their focus on her. They knew too much, their advantages were too great, she realized she never had the control. But she was determined to gain it. She had come to face her demons, and they never go down quietly.

Not daring to break the connection; she held his gaze. Finding her words again, she pressed on. "You taught him. How did your relationship come about?"

"Pen pals. Like an after school project. But don't bother looking for the letters, I had to burn them. Their all up here now." He tapped his temple methodically.

"Who initiated the contact?" She was all business again, all signs of weakness obliterated.

"Your boy. He enjoyed my work; followed the case. I have quite a few fans you know." He gave an embellished shrug. "I mean, I'm no Manson or Dahmer, but people enjoy my style."

She felt bile rise up as her stomach churned. Remembering Robert Morten's fan club, now she knew White had one too, although smaller, his appeared to be just as affective or more so.

"Can you provide me with his name?" Now was the moment of truth.

He gave her an amused look. "Why would I do that?"

Frustration set in and she was done playing games. She needed real answers. "To ensure your deal Richard. You could be looking at being charged as a co-conspirator to the murders of those four women. And I'm tempted to do it, unless you give me something to work with."

His smile had returned with full force. "I realize such threats can be effective in these types of situations, but I'm already facing life with no parole, what's tacking on a few more going to do?" He leaned forward again. "I hate this place, but I can survive it."

A dangerous look crossed over her, and she leaned into meet White's face. "Maybe it's survival you should be thinking about White. Four more murders, and the brutality of those crimes, you're looking at the wrong end of a needle." She too smiled. "That deal's starting to look pretty good now, isn't it?"

He sat back again, admiring her tenacity. "Well played Detective." Laughter broke from his lips and he began to shake his head. "I guess you got me backed into a corner. I should probably give you his name, huh?"

She had also sat back in her chair, regaining her authoritative stance. "That would be wise Mr. White."

His amusement had reached a peak, staring at her tough cop routine. He turned his attention to the mirror, finally acknowledging its existence. "I suppose Detective Stabler is waiting with cell phone poised, or is he waiting for something else? For me to reach across this table and ravish you." White's eyes never left the mirror, but could see Olivia's constricting muscles, tensing under his words. "I bet he's wondering just how much could happen in the seconds it would take for him to make it through the door and into this room." He turned back to meet her gaze again. "A lot can happen in a second."

She had to push forward, hoping his threats were idol. She knew if she gave any reaction, Elliot wouldn't hesitate to end the session, and they couldn't afford it. "His name White, or I leave, and you go back to your cell, waiting for a call from the DA about your next charges."

"You and I both know those charges wouldn't stick. You have no evidence linking me to the crimes, other than my own statement, and clearly I could be lying. But you'll never know, unless…" He spoke with assured confidence. He was once again leaning in close to her. She could feel his hot breath, remembering the hallway, she pulled away. "…you do something for me Olivia."

She felt violated by his presence, his intensity as he strained forward over the table. She didn't want to know his answer. "What?"

"Scream." He watched confusion etch into her face. Her guard brought down for a moment by uncertainty. He took the advantage.

Moving so quickly, Olivia barely had time to register that White had grabbed her. He had latched onto her hair and dragged her across the table top. Sending the recorder crashing to the floor. She fought hard, landing several debilitation blows, but White's hold was like a vice. He tilted her head back and clamped his mouth over hers, forcing his tongue past her lips. Gagging, she pulled away and used her head to uppercut his chin. She heard an anguished cry and felt moisture on her face. She had made him bleed; through the adrenaline of the struggle she clasped onto that thought and felt satisfaction.

Through the din of the battle, Olivia heard angry bellows that she registered were coming from her partner. She felt relief, knowing Elliot would pull White off her. She suddenly felt a piercing pain along her throat and realized White's handcuffs were around her neck.

A brutal force sent her flying backwards, as Elliot attempted to pull White off of her. Realization dawned on Elliot when he noticed Olivia's neck. Both White and Olivia were lying on the ground. White struggled to stand, while the guard attempted to restrain him. Elliot looked at Olivia's still form and panic flooded him. Someone was screaming for help, and after a few seconds he realized it was himself.

Kneeling beside Olivia, Elliot felt for a pulse, it was there but weak. "Get a bus, we need a bus now!"

Elliot turned and saw several more guards struggling with White. They were attempting to pull him from the room. "Detective Stabler, it was so good to see you. Tell Olivia I enjoyed our time together."

"Get that piece of shit out of here!" Elliot was filled with a fury he could hardly control, and he had to struggle just to keep from killing White. He instead focused on Olivia, lying still on the ground. He touched her face, leaned down and put his face near her lips. She wasn't breathing.

He began CPR. Pinching her nose with his fingers, he took a deep breath and locked his mouth over hers, breathing deep into her lungs. He had always wondered what it would be like to press his lips against hers, but he didn't want to find out this way. After a few more breaths, he again felt for a breath, nothing yet. He breathed for her again, this time having an affect. Her coughing was the greatest sound he'd ever heard.

Cradling her head in his hands, he looked down into her eyes. "Liv… White's gone and a bus is on its way. Just rest and try to keep breathing."

She struggled to keep her eyes focused; she was fading in and out of consciousness. She registered Elliot's words, but couldn't immediately remember what had happened. She tried to talk but her words came out a shallow rasp. "El…"

"Shhh…don't talk, not yet. We need to know if there was damage ok." She saw his familiar look of worry, and hated that she was usually the cause of it.

She nodded and remained fixed on his face, afraid she'd lose consciousness again.


	12. Chapter 12

Hi everyone. Man, I love the reviews this story is getting. I hope you all remain happy with where things go. I have plenty of tricks up my sleeve, so nothing is as it seems my dear readers. Hopefully I can get at least one more chapter up tonight. As always, reviews are welcomed and greatly appreciated. Happy reading.

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Sitting with his head in his hands, Elliot attempted to drown out the incessant drum of activity in the ER waiting room. He had ridden in the bus with Olivia, holding her hand and grilling the paramedics for any information on her condition. They reassured him that she was stable; they just wanted to be cautious about her airway due to the trauma. Then an alarm had gone off, the link of their hands broken by the medics hurried movements.

He remembered the panicked shouts between rider and driver. He could still hear them echoing in his head. "_She's gone apneic_!" "_Did you try bagging_?" "_No response_!" "_Can you get a clear visual field for intubation_?" "_Not with the c-collar, what's our ETA_?" "_Less than 5; keep bagging_!"

He had watched in shock as they struggled to keep her breathing. When they arrived she'd been rushed into a room, a group of white lab coats circling her, shouting medical terms that careened over his head. A nurse ushered him out of the room, told him she would keep him updated.

Now it had been an hour and he had neither seen nor heard from any medical personnel. Thinking the worst, he began to pace, going over and over the night in his head. White had looked right at him while threatening Olivia, and he just stood there. He should have gone in, he should have protected her. If he had, she may have been pissed for a while, but at least she would be ok.

"Elliot!" Hearing his name he looked up. Casey was running down the hallway towards him, she was followed closely by Fin, Munch and Cragen.

"How is she?" Casey gasped, trying to catch her breath.

"I don't know, no one's telling me anything. She stopped breathing on the way here." Saying the words were too much and Elliot sat down again in his orange plastic chair.

"What the hell happened?" Munch looked from Elliot to his Captain.

Cragen sighed and sat down next to Elliot. "What happened Elliot? What did White do?"

Elliot looked down at his hands, anger building up inside, ready to boil over.

Turning to look at his Captain, Elliot spoke coolly, his words constricted. "You agreed to let her go, knowing what he was capable of."

Getting up quickly, Elliot began to walk away from the group.

"Elliot." Cragen's voice was soft, sad.

Elliot stopped and turned back to face them. "I let her go too, and I shouldn't have. We didn't even learn the perp's name!" He began pacing again. "I couldn't protect her. First he gets into her head, then he tries to break her neck. I should have stopped him."

Casey put a hand on Elliot's shoulder. "You did stop him El. You probably saved her life."

"Yea man, you can't be blaming yourself for everything. Liv knows the risks, she's a cop, she did what she had to do to catch a killer." Fin approached Elliot. "She'll be pissed to hear that you are beating yourself up about it."

Elliot looked up, his arms crossed over his chest protectively. "If she's still around to hear about it."

Casey maneuvered till her eyes met Elliot's. "Hey, no more talk like that. Liv's going to be fine."

Cragen stood up and moved past them to the front desk. Flashing his badge, he asked to see Olivia's doctor. The nurse nodded and headed away from the desk.

The group watched soundlessly as Cragen walked back, carrying himself like a wounded soldier. They could see anguish in his eyes. He looked defeated.

"Captain…" Elliot's voice had grown soft at the site of Cragen's broken appearance.

Cragen went back to the seat he had just left. Casey sat down next to him. "What did they say?"

"The nurse informed me that he was in with another patient, but he would come see us when he's through." Releasing a long breath, Cragen leaned his head back and closed his eyes. "Elliot's right, I shouldn't have let her go."

Looking from Cragen to Elliot, Casey gave a frustrated sigh. "You both are aware, like the rest of us, that Liv does what she wants, regardless of the risks. When it comes to her own safety, we all know that comes second to catching a perp or helping a victim."

Elliot spoke up. "That's why we should make it a point to do it for her, if she won't."

"Yea, Liv would love that, us playing bodyguard for her." Fin turned from Elliot to Cragen. "As for not letting her go to see White, Captain, you'd have had to remove her from the case before she'd let that slide, and even then she'd probably just have gone on her own."

Munch gave them all an incredulous look. "Fin's right, you do remember this is Liv we're talking about right?"

"Maybe I _should_ take her off the case." Cragen's voice was quiet, not directed at anyone in particular.

They all sat in silence after hearing Cragen's words.

"Maybe you should." Elliot hated himself for saying it. She _was_ his partner after all. They had been through a lot together. And he knew she would resent him for it, hell she would resent all of them for it. She wouldn't be able to see past her duty as a cop, to see that she was too close to this case, and that her life was in danger as long as she was a part of it. She would only see their concern, feel that they had lost confidence in her. But they just wanted her safe. He would need to make her see that, no matter how difficult it would be.

Elliot was brought back from his thoughts by the sound of someone clearing their throat loudly. It was an attempt to gain their attentions. It worked.

Looking up they spotted a tall man in a white lab coat. He had a dark goatee and wore squared glasses. His large stature gave him a formidable appearance.

"Are you all here for Olivia Benson?" His voice was deep and imperious.

Nodding they stood as a group, nearly colliding with one another in their efforts to hear what the doctor had to say.

Cragen spoke for them all. "How is she?"

The Doctor introduced himself. "My name is Dr. Strathberge; I was Detective Benson's treating physician upon her arrival. At this time she is stable, though we had to intubate her due to trauma she sustained. Luckily there was no damage to her spinal chord or clavicle bone, in other words, nothing was broken. No sensory loss in any of her extremities. But her trachea is severely bruised and the inflammation has constricted her airway, so we will need to leave the tube in till the swelling has decreased."

"But she's going to be ok?" Casey asked nervously.

"We'll need to monitor her for a few days, keep an eye on her oxygenation and other vitals, but I believe she'll make a full recovery. Rest will be key though, and from what little time I've spent with her, I can already see that will be a problem for her."

"You don't know the half of it." Munch said derisively.

Cragen looked around at his team. "We will make sure she rests."

Smiling conspiratorially, they nodded agreement.

"Can we see her?" Elliot's voice came out anxious. He was looking past the Dr. towards the doors that hid his friend from view. He needed to see for himself that she was ok.

"Yes, I suppose it will be alright, but please, only one at a time." Dr. Strathberge looked around the group at hopeful faces. "Who will be going back with me?"

Cragen looked at his team, his eyes finally resting on Elliot. "Elliot, go. We'll see you when you come back out."

Elliot nodded, giving his Captain a grateful look. Without a word he followed Dr. Strathberge through the double doors that led to his partner.


	13. Chapter 13

**Attica Correctional Facility**  
Exchange St  
Attica, New York 14011-0149

Sitting in his cell, he is aware of his body; the bruises and minor blood flow delivered by the guards for improprieties. Nothing resembling a mortal wound, but appearances can be deceiving. And that knowledge gives him supremacy.

Amusing himself, his smile all encompassing, he bides his time. Remembering the feel of Olivia's lips, the taste of her lingering upon his.

Knowing that it was simply a prelude intensifies the sensations.

The game was in play, the plan was cultivated to precision, and the details turned him on. Power was in the details and he was absolute.

The guards did their damnedest to make him suffer without sending him on a trip to the infirmary, but he had other plans.

On his arrival back at his cell, feigning submissiveness for his chaperones, he had watched as they disappeared from view. Once alone, he went to his mattress and reached into a small tear in the fabric. Removing his hand with a smile, he looked down at his palm.

Resting in it was a small white pill, the shape of a pentagon. Miniscule writing etched into one side said MSD 97. Such power wielded by so small an object. The little treasure was 4 milligrams of Decadron, brand name for Dexamethasone, which was an adrenocortical steroid. Such steroids had massive effects on the human body. The effects ranged from blood sugar to fluid retention, and most importantly DNA synthesis. In particular, blood leukocytes, also known as white blood cells. A drastic change would occur in his body, creating an overwhelming amount of these particular cells. To any physician or member of a medical staff, this would signal advanced infection. With the right prognosis and the blood smear to prove it, he was a very ill man in need of emergency care.

An hour had passed since he popped his little friend, its bitter taste lingering on his tongue, like the thought of Olivia. He could feel the effects already and knew the time had come. He yelled for the nearest guard to help him, he needed to see a Doctor.


	14. Chapter 14

Elliot followed closely as Dr. Strathberge lead him along a white hallway. The sterile atmosphere mixed with an endless bustle of activity felt like a riotous contradiction. After the toll the night had taken on his mind and body, the frenzied atmosphere was nearly too much to bare. But he would hold his composure, at least long enough to ensure Olivia was indeed alive and safe.

Nearly colliding with the Dr.; Elliot realized they had stopped. Looking up, Elliot caught Strathberge staring, as if studying him; it was an uncomfortable feeling. Shaking it off, Elliot chalked it up to exhaustion.

"Detective Benson is through here." Strathberge motioned towards a door directly to their right.

Nodding, Elliot thanked him and went in slowly, hesitating slightly, mentally preparing himself for what he might see. But his efforts were in vain. The sight was still a shock to his system. Seeing her lying on that bed, with its crisp white sheets and crisscrossed wires, she looked so small and fragile. Not like the Olivia Benson that was always forefront in his mind.

He approached her still form cautiously, aware that she wasn't awake. The Dr. had explained the need to keep her sedated for her own safety, so that she didn't try and fight the tube. In normal cases, fighting the tube was a good sign, but when sufficient swelling and damage constricted the throat, keeping the tube in was to ensure adequate levels of oxygen into the body.

Still, seeing the tube scared him.

Hearing the machines breath air into her lungs; the steady beep of the monitor playing in time the rhythm of her heart. These tools of healing, meant to comfort, left him with the knowledge that his partner was human and susceptible to the world and its horrors. For so long he had taken for granted her strength and ability to come out on top. He had taken for granted the idea that she would always be there. Though afraid she would eventually move on with her life, the thought of her actually dying had rarely crossed his mind. Till now. Now it was all he _could_ think about, with Olivia lying unaware and vulnerable in a hospital bed.

Pulling a chair over, he took a seat by her side, feeling like he could never leave. He looked down at her hand, normally so strong, lying still and delicate. He took it in his and squeezed warmth into the palm. Imagining it would squeeze life back into her eyes. For a fleeting moment he thought it might, and he looked into her face. But there was no change there; her eyes remained closed against the light of the room.

His neck prickled at the feeling of being watched. Turning around, he saw Dr. Strathberge hovering in the doorway, keeping vigil.

"Detective Stabler, is there anything I can get for you?" Strathberge asked.

Staring at him curiously, Elliot hesitated before answering. "No, I'm ok, thank you." His voice had a dismissive tone, and Strathberge sensed it.

"Alright, I'll send a nurse in to check on Ms. Benson's condition in a while. If you need anything, don't hesitate to ask." Strathberge remained in the doorway.

"I'll do that." Elliot didn't wait for him to leave before turning back to Olivia. He was tired and wanted to be left alone with his partner.

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Leaving the doorway, Strathberge headed to the nearest nursing station. After briefly conversing with the hurried staff, he lifted the receiver of the nearest phone and began to dial out. His eyes found their way back to room 254, where the two Detectives sat in silence.

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After half an hour passed, Elliot struggled to pull himself away from his partner's side. His only thought at the moment was on her protection. But he knew the rest of the team wanted to see her, and he owed it to them to give them that chance.

Nearing the door, he turned and took a final look at his partner before leaving the room. She looked the same as she had when he arrived, but he still searched her face for any movement, any sign that Olivia was aware of his departing presence. But there was none. Sighing loudly, he turned and exited the room.

Entering the waiting area, Elliot was surprised to see only Casey sitting in the uncomfortable orange chairs. He approached her quietly, her eyes were closed and she appeared to be sleeping.

"Casey…" Elliot's voice was soft, yet firm.

Casey's eyes opened and she smiled tiredly up at him. Elliot stepped back slightly as Casey stood and stretched out her aching body. The chairs really were miserable contraptions.

"Casey, where did everyone go?" Feeling guilty, Elliot looked to the exit doors. "Did I take too long with…?"

"No El, you're fine. Cragen and the guy's were called out and told me to send you along when you were finished visiting Olivia."

"Where were they called out to?" Elliot was tired and had been looking forward to some rest in the crib, knowing that his home was too far away.

The hesitation in Casey's response caught his attention and he waited anxiously.

"He struck again El, the Conqueror; they left for the scene 15 minutes ago."

All sense of fatigue left his body, the fog that had been clouding his mind suddenly cleared. The man they had been chasing for nearly a month, the same man who had attacked and threatened his partner, had just taken another life. Exhaustion gave way to fury and determination; they were going to catch this bastard if it killed them.

"Where's the location?" Elliot was already heading for the doors.

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Casey made her way down the same white hallway Elliot had just left. She ended her journey at a door that had the numbers 254 stenciled on it. She had finally arrived outside Olivia's room. Stepping through the doorway, she spotted the Dr. that had informed them of Olivia's condition. He was hovering over Olivia's bed, seemingly watching her. Although he was Olivia's doctor, she still was surprised by his presence.

"How's she doing?" Casey needed to break the uncomfortable silence in the room.

Looking up, Dr. Strathberge met her eyes, a curious look flashed in his, almost predatory, then just as quickly it was gone. He smiled at her and motioned for her to come closer to Olivia's sleeping form. "She is doing well. Still sedated, but her sats look good and all her reflexes are intact. I'd say she will be good as new in a few days."

Leaning on the bed rail, Casey's body seemed to relax. "That's good news."

"Yes it is." He was still looking at her, his eyes burning into hers. This close to him, she realized just how imposing Dr. Strathberge was. His tall stature and muscular frame, mixed with quiet intensity in his features. She felt strangely repelled yet also attracted to him.

He leaned closer to her, his closeness overwhelming. "So, are you another Detective?"

She inched away slightly, attempting to expand the space between them. "No, I'm an ADA."

"But you work with Detective Benson." He motioned towards Olivia. "In the sex crimes unit?"

"Yes, we all work Special Victims."

"I see; that's interesting." He was still hovering too close.

She was becoming uncomfortable with his questions. Attempting to end the conversation, Casey took the seat previously occupied by Elliot and clasped onto Olivia's still hand.

Dr. Strathberge remained staring at the two women for a moment longer, a smile of appreciation lighting up his intense features; then he quietly exited the room. Leaving Casey alone with her friend.


	15. Chapter 15

Hey all you awesome readers, things are really starting to heat up huh? Well, don't worry, I'm still writing up a storm tonight, so more chapters are on their way. Stay tuned, and let me know what you all think. Reviews light a fire under me.

And in response to demonchilde: I like where your mind goes. You'll just have to wait and see.

**Attica Correctional Facility**  
Exchange St  
Attica, New York 14011-0149

He was lying in an uncomfortable bed, waiting for the on-call nurse to get back with his test results. He already knew what they would say. How her face would morph from resentment to worry.

She would no longer see a convict; she would only see a very ill man who needed immediate care. Care she was not equipped to give.

The guard seated beside him appeared to be dosing off. What a rude awaking he would get from a frantic nurse yelling for an ambulance. The thought amused him, and he smiled slightly through his performance.

Doubled over, sweating profusely, he gave the impression of a man weakened by illness, a body riddled with disease. How could he possibly pose a threat?

Sitting in quiet triumph, he watched as the nurse came rushing back, with a panic streaked expression. The guard, alerted by her presence, sat up quickly.

"What's going on?" He was rubbing sleep from his eyes.

The nurse was looking him up and down; White could see her mind at work. She then turned to the guard, who was now watching her with irritation.

"This patient needs to be taken to the nearest hospital immediately." She had begun prepping him for transfer.

He played along, moaning at the slightest touch.

The guard looked from her to White. "Why? What's wrong with him?"

She turned on him, furious. "This patient was clearly beaten and now shows signs of massive infection. He could be bleeding internally. All conditions I can't care for properly here. So he needs to be transferred. Preferably before he goes into shock."

The guard rolled his eyes and looked fleetingly at White before calling on a radio for a bus to be sent over.


	16. Chapter 16

After an erratic drive across the city, Elliot arrived at the crime scene barely 15 minutes later. Climbing out of the front seat, he was relieved to find the outside of the building nearly vacant. The media and general public had not yet gotten wind of the gruesome findings inside.

Presenting his badge to the uniform guarding the entrance, he was immediately nodded through. Entering the lobby of yet another apartment building, Elliot couldn't help but feel a sense of dread and déjà vu' knowing what he would find a few flights up.

He spotted Cragen standing beside the elevators; he was talking on a cell phone and wasn't immediately aware of Elliot's arrival, giving Elliot a chance to catch a snippet of the conversation.

"…the prints are back? Were there any hits on VICAP?" Cragen looked up and motioned Elliot over to him.

Elliot waited next to his Captain, hopeful they got a lead.

Cragen was nodding as he listened. "Ok, thanks for the update. Keep looking, check other databases, he's got to be in the system somewhere. We need him to be."

After a moment Cragen clicked off the phone and looked at Elliot.

"No match was found right?" Elliot let the disappointment of his Captains answer weigh him down, knowing already what it would be.

"No, nothing on VICAP. But that doesn't mean we won't lock onto him somewhere. It's something." Cragen ran his hands over his face; the exhaustion they all felt was visible in his every movement.

"Yea, it's something." Elliot hoped his voice carried some hint of optimism, but he doubted it. "How did we catch wind of the new victim?"

"Anonymous tip to 911 made about an hour ago. We have Morales trying to track down its source. Hopefully our tipster knows something, and can be persuaded to talk." Cragen turned and hit the up button on the elevator, then turned back to face Elliot. "The victim's apartment is on the 4th floor. Munch and Fin are up there already, same with Warner, CSU are on their way."

Cragen began to walk towards the entrance of the lobby. Elliot watched him go, calling after him. "You're leaving?"

Cragen turned back catching Elliot stepping onto the elevator. "I left Lake in charge back at the house."

As the doors began to shut, Elliot gave his Captain a faint smile. "Say no more."

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Casey had dozed off briefly, head resting near Olivia's hand. Sitting up, her back and neck ached from the position. She looked around the small room, with its stark white walls. They were still alone, her and sleeping beauty. She laughed at the reference she made and looked down at her friend. She was beautiful and strong, she knew Olivia could survive anything. A sense of pride washed over her, the knowledge that they were friends, that she had someone like Olivia to rely on. And in turn, she would be here for her friend.

Casey knew Elliot wanted to be here, waiting by Olivia's side till her eyes opened. But he had a job to do. So Casey would step in, make sure Liv opened her eyes and saw a familiar face in unfamiliar surroundings.

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Elliot got off the elevator on the 4th floor and headed down a hallway of closed doors. Something about the Conqueror and the 4th floor. Maybe it was something, maybe it was nothing, but if there was anything to it, Huang would pick it up.

He arrived at an open door. Looking inside he saw a familiar scene. Warner crouched beside the body of a woman whose beauty was tarnished, all but destroyed by the brutality of a blade. Fin and Munch hovered back towards the doorway that Elliot stood in. Spotting him they held up open palms, signaling him to wait.

Confused Elliot approached them. "What's wrong?"

Munch looked at him with tired eyes. "Besides the obvious, this one's really bad. We just wanted to prepare you."

"Yea, he really did a number on her El, it isn't pretty." Fin appeared rattled, a first for Elliot, who had rarely seen him be so affected by a scene.

Nodding, Elliot moved past them and approached the young woman's battered body. Warner looked up at him, a look of anger and disgust in her eyes. At that moment she reminded him of his partner, who he wanted more than anything to be standing by his side. He kneeled down and assessed the body. Warner lifting the bloody sheet up, so that he had a complete view, she never spoke, her usual assessments giving way to silent anger. There were the similar marks on the throat he knew to be the Conqueror's MO, but there was so much more damage than he'd ever seen at one of the crime scenes. Their killer was clearly escalating and the thought scared him.

There were the same knife wounds as the other victims, but more of them, too many for him to visualize a number. There were burns, bruises and extreme trauma to the genitals and lower extremities. The hands showed both defensive and offensive wounds, she was a fighter and had suffered for it. Elliot still felt a pang of pride for her will to stay alive, and hoped she had taken a piece of him with her.

Something in the woman's hand caught his eye and he quickly donned gloves. Prying her fingers apart, he found a piece of paper that had been shoved into her grasp post mortem. Unfolding it, Elliot's muscles tensed at the thought of what might be written there.

Warner looked up to see Elliot's face, staring down at a scrap of paper, his gaze frozen in terror.

Elliot read the words over and over, each time hoping they would change, that something else would be written there.

But they never did.

_Elliot,_

_Olivia says hi._

_RW_


	17. Chapter 17

Casey's head lulled back and she awoke suddenly. She was still seated in the chair beside Olivia's bed. Looking at her friend, Olivia appeared the same.

Getting up, Casey began pacing the room, stretching her aching muscles. She might slip out of the room for coffee, acknowledging that she wasn't able to stay awake on her own.

She was about to leave the room when she sensed movement behind her. Turning, she saw Olivia opening her eyes, panic written in her features.

Casey ran over to the bed and caressed her face. "Olivia… Olivia, its Casey. Don't be afraid, you're safe in the hospital. You have a tube down your throat to help you breath. I'm going to go get your doctor, but I'll be right back. Ok sweetie?"

Olivia nodded, the panic in her eyes dissipating.

Casey caressed her face once more for reassurance before exiting the room. She rushed out into the hallway and towards the nearest nurse's station.

"Where's Dr. Strathberge?" Casey's voice was frantic.

The nurse looked at her anxious appearance. "What's going on?"

"Olivia's awake, she's freaking out. I need to get Dr. Strathberge now!" Casey began scanning the hallway for any sign of him.

"Alright, I'll send him in. You go stay with your friend, keep her calm." The nurse headed off down the hall. Casey watched her for a brief moment, then returned to the room.

Back at the bed, Casey took hold of Olivia's hand. Looking into her eyes, Casey smiled. "Hey Liv, the nurse is getting your doctor. Everything's going to be alright."

Olivia nodded, keeping her eyes locked on Casey's. The hand not held in Casey's was balled into a fist to keep from tearing at the tube intruding within her throat.

Looking up, Casey watched as Dr. Strathberge entered the room and approached the bed.

"So I hear we're up." He looked down at Olivia's wide eyes. He held her terrified gaze, a broad smile spreading along his face.

Casey was focused on Dr. Strathberge. "Do you think it's safe to take the tube out yet?"

Olivia began to raise her right hand, but Strathberge quickly pinned it down. "I think she might be ready." He looked back down at Olivia. "You ready Detective Benson?"

Casey felt Olivia's grip intensify, and she glanced down at her friend. The look of terror registered briefly before a scream shattered the silence in the room. Casey looked back at the closed door, before returning her gaze to Dr. Strathberge. "What was that?"

Still smiling, Strathberge met Casey's gaze. "I think my friend just arrived."

Confusion etched into her features and the familiar sense of unease she felt earlier had come back. Strathberge was staring at her, the predatory look back in his eyes full force. "What do you mean…?"

Olivia broke her grip away from both Casey and Strathberge and began pulling at the tube in her throat. Casey launched at her hands, trying to stop her.

Strathberge leaned in close, whispering into Olivia's ear. "You don't want to do that Detective, cause then I'd have to kill your friend."

Olivia stopped suddenly, hands frozen in place.

Casey stopped too, unsure of what was happening. "Olivia are you ok?"

Olivia's eyes moved from Casey to Strathberge, then suddenly to his hand which had been removed from his lab coat. When she saw the black object she tried to yell out, but the tube hindered any sound other than muffled gasps.

Looking at Olivia, Casey followed her frantic motions towards Dr. Strathberge's hand.

A scream caught in her throat, never making it out of her mouth before the spiked barbs latched onto her skin, sending an electric current coursing through her body.

Olivia stared in horror as her friend slumped to the floor, the current finally ending its battle.

Strathberge walked around the bed and quickly ripped the barbs from her shoulder, where they had lodged on contact. Standing back up, he looked down at Olivia, smiling. "She's a beauty, just like you. Plenty to go around now."

Olivia moved her eyes from Strathberge towards the door, which was open, revealing the bloodied face of Richard White. "Hello Olivia, I see you've met my apprentice."


	18. Chapter 18

Elliot was out the door and running down the hallway, with Fin and Munch on his heels. Bypassing the slow moving elevator, they took the stairs, nearly colliding with another uniformed officer at the bottom.

Elliot had his cell phone out, attempting to reach Casey at the hospital. There was no answer, the ringer always ending at her voicemail.

"Casey, its Elliot. You need to call me back as soon as you get this. We're on our way back to the hospital; you and Olivia are in danger."

Closing his phone, Elliot was relieved to hear it ringing. He flipped it open, eager to hear that everything was alright. That he was simply being paranoid.

"Casey?" Elliot listened for her voice.

"_No Elliot, its Cragen. I need you to get back to the hospital immediately_." His Captains voice came spilling out of the phone's speaker, rushed and urgent.

"We're already on our way." Elliot stopped suddenly and looked at Fin and Munch, who were staring questioningly back at him. "Wait Captain, why are _you_ having us go back?"

Cragen's voice came out strained. "_We've got new information and it's not good. Morales identified the call as originating from Bellevue Hospital, and Elliot, we got a match to the prints_."

"Who…?" Elliot's voice sounded small and anxious.

"_The prints were found in the Bellevue employee records, under the name David Strathberge. Elliot, he's Olivia's doctor_."

Elliot barely heard his Captains last words as he sprinted for the driver side of his car. Not waiting for Fin and Munch, he slid behind the wheel and was on his way to the hospital, to his partner.

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Olivia stared up into the faces of the two men who haunted her dreams. They were both looking down at her, identical looks of accomplishment played out in diabolical grins.

They had tied her arms down with restraints, hospital issue, meant for the provision of safety, but there was nothing safe about her situation. She watched as Strathberge exited the room, leaving her alone with White.

He approached the left side of her bed; leaning over the railing she could feel his hot breath on her face. She still had the tube in her throat, the only time she was thankful for it, not wanting to relive what happened in the interview.

He moved his hands to her face, caressing it. She tried to pull away, but was hindered by both the tube and the restraints around her wrists. His hands began to move along her body and she struggled to the point of exhaustion against her bonds.

"There's no point in fighting Olivia, you are powerless against me. Your struggles only add to the pleasure." He leaned in close, lips brushing against her ear. "I will break you. Tear you down till you beg me for forgiveness. You will beg for other things, and I your merciful lord, will grant them to you."

She stared defiantly into his cold and deadly eyes. Still struggling, she could feel liquid warmth along her hands, flowing over palms and finger tips, the crisp sheets now stained red from her efforts.

Breaking the connection with White, Olivia looked up to see Strathberge approaching the bed. A needle firmly in his grasp; held up high enough for her to see, to be aware of his intentions.

"You're going to be taking a little nap now Olivia. We wouldn't want your handsome partner to come and spoil all the fun."

White's smiling face shifted from Strathberge to Olivia. "Sweet dreams…"

Holding her arm in place, White watched in awe as Strathberge prepared the injection site. Once the drugs were administered, he discarded the needle on the floor at his feet, the clinking sound as it made contact became a distant reverberation; slowly Olivia's world became black.

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Elliot was nearing the hospital parking lot. His cell phone resting on the seat beside him began to ring. Reaching for it, he flipped it open and put it to his ear.

His voice clipped and agitated. "Stabler…"

The alarmed voice of his Captain carried through the speaker. "_Elliot I just got word of mass casualties at Bellevue Hospital_."

"Strathberge…?" Fear seized him. The thought that Olivia was among the victims; his mind felt like it could shut down at any moment.

"_Yes, we believe so. Elliot, there's more_…" Cragen's voice was barely a whisper over the line. "_White's escaped_."

A chill ran along Elliot's body. The letter on Olivia's desk, the attack in the interview, the note in the victim's hand, they all lead to this moment. White had planned for her to be brought to Bellevue, into the waiting arms of Dr. Strathberge. His appearance altered since Olivia followed him down that service hall. None of them had seen him, heard him, besides his partner. Strathberge would have no fear talking to them, comforting them, leading them to her room. Not as long as he kept her sedated. He was a chameleon, untraceable, till now.

"He knew Captain, that bastard knew. He planned everything." Elliot's voice grew more distant with each word. "I should have stayed, should have protected her…"

"_Elliot…_" Cragen's voice becoming frantic. "_Elliot_?"

Elliot pulled up in front of the hospital entrance. Getting out, he drew his weapon and headed for the doors. "I'm going in."

"_Elliot, wait for back up_!"

Closing the phone, Elliot pocketed it, and passed through the sliding glass, the hum of the automatic doors the only sound he could hear.


	19. Chapter 19

Elliot's steps seemed to echo off the cold linoleum. An eerie silence weighed down upon him, remembering the deluge of patients and staff that had choked these hallways just hours before.

The deserted corridors and vacant rooms reminded him of his son's favorite zombie films, as if the world reached its end and mankind had been erased.

The stark white of the walls and floors suddenly gave way to a startling flood of deep red. Elliot's senses were overwhelmed by the shocking scene spread before him. Angry streams of arterial spray dripped from walls and ceiling, as if a maniacal painter had put on display a horrific masterpiece. An immense river of blood was pooled at the center of the hall, fed from open doorways, like little titian tributaries. Inside the rooms lay twisted bodies, white coats stained crimson, empty eyes wide with terror; the last image they ever saw was a madman wielding a knife.

He wondered just how many lives White and his pupil had dispatched from the earth. How many grieving families would need to look down upon a slab?

White hot rage flooded his senses, pushing out all fear and sadness. He would lay his life down to stop these monsters, to keep them from hurting another soul.

As he continued through the maze of halls, his mind wondered to his friends. He had to believe that Casey and Olivia were alive, even with the reality of pain and carnage all around him. Anger and the glimmer of hope that he would see his partner's smile again was all that kept him going, moving him forward through a sea of death.

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Light began to seep into the darkness, filling the recesses of her mind. Through a haze of drugs, she could make out blurred images moving in front of her. Slowly the world came back into focus; she could distinguish a large figure, leaning forward, pushing an object down a white hallway.

Aware that she was also moving, looking down, she was seated in a wheelchair, being pushed from behind. The fog in her head clearing, she suddenly remembered where she was and who was piloting her chair.

Olivia quickly took inventory of her body. Glancing down, keeping her body lax, she only moved her eyes, never giving any sign that she was awake. She was no longer restrained, though her wrists were bloody and raw from the earlier struggles. The tube had been removed, and although her throat was sore, she could breathe sufficiently. Still in a hospital gown, she shuddered slightly at the feeling of exposure, how vulnerable she felt without layers of clothing. Especially without her service weapon. She was unarmed, practically naked and up against two brutal killers. Her odds weren't looking too good. But she would fight and fight hard, until the last breath left her lungs.

She squinted, keeping her eyes open just enough to see, incase one of the men looked her way. Her only advantage was that they still believed her to be in a drug induced sleep. Other than that she was out numbered and out weighed by a couple hundred pounds. She needed a plan or an opportunity to present itself.

She studied Strathberge; his hulking presence loomed in front of her, still clad in a crisp white lab coat, although now it had spatters of red strewn across it. Aware that it was blood, she was saddened by its implications; someone was hurt or dead, another victim to add to his growing resume. She deduced that he was pushing Casey, much like White was pushing her, and that meant Casey was alive. Relief flooded her, knowing that her friend was still breathing; she could still protect her, or die trying.

Olivia pushed down the nausea the drugs were inducing. She was still dizzy, which added to her disadvantage. She wanted to stand, to try and shake off the effects, but she dared not move. If they found out she was awake they would incapacitate her again, her only chance at survival and Casey's safety would be gone.

She needed to think, straining against the advancing fog that was attempting to destroy the clarity she had latched onto only moments before. Pushing through the drugged stupor, and the repulsion she felt being so close to White, she had to focus on her surroundings. Looking for anything she could use as a weapon, any reasonable means of escape for her and Casey. When she found it, whatever it was, she would have to act quickly. Her only goal at the moment was to get Casey to safety, once her friend was out of harms way she could focus on ending White and Strathberge's extracurricular activities. She would stop the teacher and his student for good.

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Elliot arrived at Olivia's room. The door was shut, allowing for a barrage of horrific images to attack his mind. Shaking off the fear of what he might find inside, he slowly turned the knob, weapon up and at the ready.

The door swung open and he moved through the doorway, quickly scanning the room, he found it empty. No Casey, no Olivia and no monsters lurking in the shadows.

Turning to leave the room, he stopped, having seen a flash of red on the bed. Turning back, he approached the bed Olivia had occupied and saw smears of dried blood staining the sheets. Terror seized him and he had to fight back the urge to vomit, to cry out in anguish at what evil had been done to her.

Turning back to the door, he ran from the room, barreling down the hallway at full force. He would find the bastards and make them suffer for touching her, his partner, his best friend.

Gun raised in front of him, he wouldn't hesitate to take the shot.

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They were approaching a pair of double doors with a glowing exit sign announcing freedom.

White looked at Strathberge, who's expert hands and physicians skills had proved more effective than he could ever have imagined. Then to Olivia's slacken form slouched in the wheelchair he was pushing.

All his planning had paid off. He was a free man again. Breathing in the smells of the outside world, each more distinct than the next, he ended on the smell of blood, fresh and warm, spilt over his hands and face. It's coppery essence as he had imagined it for so many years locked away in his cell, a cement closet he would not miss.

Olivia and her blonde companion would provide days, maybe weeks of fun. He wanted to prolong their time together for as long as possible. She was his soul mate; they were bound to each other, by blood, by need. Blood he had spilled, that of her friend, another formidable woman, had sealed their fate. They were destined to meet, to come together and ultimately for her blood to be spilled by his hands. He needed her; had since he first laid eyes on her at the crime scene of the ADA, and now she needed him, to her he was the giver and taker of life. He was her god. He had the power.

Strathberge had stopped just short of the doors. He moved to the alarm box and pried it open. Taking a moment to examine the connective wires, he made a decision and ripped one from its base. Satisfied, he turned and smiled at White before testing the doors.

He hesitated briefly, then pushed the left door open slightly, taking the time to peer out through the crack. He was scanning the lower parking lot for any sign of trouble. Not seeing any, they pushed through the doors and out into the cover of a cement landscape.

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He rounded corner after corner, always displaying gun first, his body following close behind.

Elliot had reached the sub-basement by following bloodied foot prints. Grateful for the carelessness the killers gave to covering their escape path, but fearful of its meaning.

Either they felt there was no real danger, that no cops had arrived yet on scene, or they had moved past all reason and were compelled purely by animalistic mania. The bloody evidence he had left behind on the floors above supported his theories, the realization that the men he was pursuing, the men he believed had his partner, had escalated past any sense of reason or restraint. They had moved beyond calculating killers, now functioning as feral beasts, their savagery and unpredictability were unknown factors. They could and would kill anyone who crossed their path. He had to be ready for anything.

Rounding a final corner, he saw them at the end of a hallway, a neon exit sign directing them to the world outside. He couldn't let them escape into the city, like animals retreating into the forest, they would be swallowed up by the wilderness, and Olivia would be gone forever.

He had to end it here; now.

As they pushed through the double doors, he pursued, following quietly in their wake.


	20. Chapter 20

The light was fading from the sky as Cragen approached Captain Bradley of the Homicide unit. He had just finished sending in reinforcements to the barriers, uniforms keeping the media and public at bay. Red's and blue's rolled over the scene, creating a chaotic atmosphere.

Bradley turned to face Cragen. "I have a feeling we're going to have a riot on our hands soon, especially with the way the media is feeding the frenzy."

Cragen stared sickeningly at the mass of people, cameras flashing, reporters attempting to gain attention, and distraught loved ones screaming to know who had been killed. At this time the number of casualties was unknown, all those who had made it out of the hospital were already transported to other local facilities for treatment. Since Elliot's arrival they had formed a complete perimeter around the complex, keeping an eye on all the exits. So far they had heard nothing, which both worried and appeased him. No gunshots or screams had been uttered, but there was no guarantee that meant his friends were safe.

"This is bad Steven; we have yet to hear from either the perp's or my people. I can't tell you how impossible waiting here is for me." Cragen's voice had a hollow sound.

"I know Don, but as of right now we need to stick to protocol, there are procedures for a reason." Captain Bradley appeared as haggard as Cragen, his words automatic.

"There's nothing procedure about any of this, these guys aren't hostage takers, they won't follow a play book, they are brutal killers pure and simple." Cragen stared at the entrance to the hospital, a faint hope that his Detectives would walk out as if it was any other day.

"For your people's sake, I hope you're wrong Don."

Cragen turned to see the faces of Munch and Fin approaching, their somber appearance a sign that they knew the stakes.

"Captain, we need to get in there." Fin looked dangerous; a fire raging within him that was barely contained below the surface.

"At the moment I can't allow it." Cragen eyed them warily.

"Captain, El needs backup, and those sickos have Casey and Liv! We can't just stand out here with our thumbs up our asses and do nothing." Munch was matching Fin's intensity.

Cragen stole a glance behind him, noting that Captain Bradley was preoccupied with a hospital employee's hysterical family member. Turning back he looked calm and focused, conveying quiet authority. "We will approach the building through the entrance to the adjacent garage, Bradley's men may not have flanked the barricade their yet. And we will proceed with the utmost caution, do you understand me?"

Munch and Fin nodded agreement as they moved around the outskirts of the barricade, towards the north side of the hospital.

Fin stopped. "Captain, wait a sec."

Cragen and Munch stopped and faced him. Fin crouched down and pulled a small .22 from a holster near his ankle. "I brought reinforcements tonight, just in case." He handed his Captain the gun, giving him a knowing look, as if the 3 of them were crusaders about to do battle with the Devil himself.

Cragen took the weapon and turned it over in his hands. It had been some time since he held a weapon; he prepared himself to go into the thick of battle. He was ready to fight for his friends and bring them home safe.

The three continued their journey, disappearing into the shadows.


	21. Chapter 21

Elliot kept close to the wall, approaching the doors silently. Opening them slightly, he peered through, spotting White and Strathberge pushing Olivia and Casey towards a blue BMW.

They stopped at the trunk and Strathberge pulled out a set of keys, the sound of their jangling created a cacophony of echoes in the stillness of the garage. Slamming the key into the lock, he turned it, releasing a satisfied sigh as the trunk popped open. Looking at White, he motioned him to gather up Casey's still form.

Unsure of whether the men were armed, Elliot held back, trying to asses the situation. If he came out now, they could use Liv and Casey as a shield. If he waited till the women were placed in the trunk, he'd have a better chance at protecting them, but could also lose them if one of the perps got behind the wheel. Either decision was a risk, but the latter seemed a better bet. He waited for White and Strasberge to carry out the task.

Casey had been successfully deposited inside the trunk, her still form pushed towards the back to make room for their other precious cargo. White lifted Olivia with care, not wanting to cause injury till he could fully enjoy it; while she was awake. Once she was laid next to her blonde friend, White turned to Strasberge with a broad grin on his face. They were ready to go.

Elliot seized the moment, while the men were distracted, to catch them off guard. "Freeze assholes!" Elliot had burst through the double doors, his gun held in front of him, pointed in the direction of the two men.

White and Strasberge looked up, shocked at the appearance of Detective Stabler. White moved quickly, darting behind the car, while Strasberge reached into his coat for the gun he had lifted off a dead security guard.

Seeing Strasberge reach into his coat, Elliot opened fire, hitting him square in the chest. Strasberge's hand hit the cement floor and the gun skittered underneath the car. Strathberge clutched at his chest, blood ebbing its way out of the mortal wound he knew had severed his aorta. He would be dead in moments. His last thoughts were on how the Detective had gotten the drop on them; this wasn't part of the plan.

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Hearing the shot and Elliot's voice startled Olivia, who'd been preparing to launch out of the trunk with the tire iron clutched in her hands. Now all she could think about was who got shot. Was Elliot ok? The need to know was all consuming.

She slowly pushed the trunk open and spied Elliot approaching the car in a crouched stance. Spotting her, he motioned for her to get out of the trunk quickly. She turned to grab Casey, when she heard another shot. Looking back at Elliot, her scream caught in her throat, constricted by pure terror. Elliot was lying where he had fallen, a few feet from the car, blood seeping out of a wound she couldn't place.

Panic seized her and she rolled out and away from the car, running to Elliot's side. She searched for the source of the blood, which she found oozing from a hole in his right shoulder. Applying pressure, she couldn't stop the flood of tears escaping her eyes.

"El… Oh god El, stay with me sweetie. Please."

He looked up into her eyes, pain and fear a mixture of emotions upon his face. "Liv… Please… Behind you, White…"

Realization donned on her. Due to the hysteria of seeing Elliot bleeding on the ground, she had forgotten the basic math of the situation; someone had to have shot him. She could feel White behind her. A coldness passing through her body and her soul, a dull numbness that took away all feelings, all pain, except rage and determination. She would kill White for taking El away from her, and part of her hoped that she died in the process. The thought of heroics never came to mind, this was simple and pure, the oldest of rituals, she wanted revenge.

Stealing one final look at her handsome partner, his eyes closed, as if she had simply come to spy on his sleeping form in the crib. She turned to face her demon head on. His cold eyes alight with satisfaction, a smile spread across his jester-like face. A face she hated more than anything in the world.

Reaching behind her, she clasped Elliot's gun. In a flash of movement, she swung the barrel towards White, pulling the trigger, the gun aimed for his heart. The round went wild, nicking his right arm, as a bullet plowed through hers. The arm that had held Elliot's gun went limp as blood flowed from the wound. Her body spun around by the force of the impact, and suddenly she was lying beside El, which felt safe in that moment of chaos and pain. Losing track of time, of the world and of herself; all she saw was El's face. Feeling his still-warm body lying next to hers, all she could do was hold onto him. Preparing for the final shot and the blackness to follow, this felt right, dying with him.

The darkness never came, never engulfed her, and she felt another jolt of pain, as her head screamed from the pressure of White's hand dragging her by her hair. He never spoke, just pulled her towards the car. Shutting the trunk with Casey's motionless form still inside, he headed for the driver's side door.

Snapping out of her stupor, Olivia struggled against his grip. Finding her footing, she was able to land an elbow to his groin. The sudden shock of the impact left him stunned and she took her chance.

Landing a punch to the face and another to the gut, White staggered back and fell against the car. Knocking the gun from his hand, Olivia brought him to the ground with a knee to the face. White's still form lay near the door, as she nudged him with her foot. Looking around she spotted his gun and snatched it up, making her way towards the back of the car.

She quickly popped the trunk open and slipped the gun inside. Needing both hands free, she began to haul her friend from the back of the vehicle. The dead weight making it difficult, leaving her aching muscles exhausted and the wound in her arm throbbing.

Olivia finally managed to drag Casey completely from the trunk and away from the car, lying her down near a white van parked a few cars down.

Running back towards the open trunk, already weak from blood loss, she reached for the gun inside. It was gone.

Panic seized her as she spun around, just in time to see White crack the barrel against her temple. The blackness had once again won.


	22. Chapter 22

Fin leading the way through the maze of cars, the three Detectives moved in time with each other, their guns up and scanning the shadows for any sign of movement.

They had covered three of the four levels that completed the architecture of the parking structure. Now making their way down to the substructure, the underbelly of the entire complex, they knew their journey was nearing an end. At the bottom was the entrance to the hospital.

The crack of a gunshot, followed closely by another, the explosive sounds reverberating along the walls towards them, halted their movements. The shots had sounded close by, but it was difficult to distinguish in the cavern-like atmosphere. They exchanged nervous looks before continuing their descent. Each of them praying that the shots had not claimed one of their own.

With each corner they rounded, their pace increased. By the time another round of gun blasts shredded the silence, they had broke out into a run. Their weapons held in front of them, forming a defensive stance.

The final curve of the wall gave way to level ground and they came into view of a grisly scene. Dr. Strasberge was lying in a pool of blood, dead eyes staring emptily at the ceiling. Looking past his body their stomachs gave a lurch as they laid eyes on Elliot's still form, producing a decent sized pool of his own.

Starring in shock and horror at their fallen comrade, they didn't register the sound of an engine starting. Not until the car had pulled away from its position and was barreling towards them, did they become aware of what was happening. Narrowly escaping the hood of the car, the three Detectives leapt aside, colliding painfully with the cement floor.

Realizing that White was behind the wheel, Fin pointed his gun and opened fire, riddling the left side and back window with bullets. The shattered glass scattered along the ground, trailing behind as the car continued its retreat.

They watched as it disappeared around the corner they had just appeared from, making its way up to the fourth level and out into the city.

Anguish filled each of them as they stood up and made their way towards Elliot, lying motionless on the ground. Fin and Munch held back as Cragen approached his fallen Detective, tears staining his face. Leaning down, with a glimmer of hope, Cragen felt for a pulse.

Fin and Munch watched their Captain with apprehension. Their muscles tensed, ready for the inevitable signal that Elliot was gone. But the look Cragen gave them instilled hopefulness, relief flooding in at the comprehension of his words. "I've got a pulse."

Shoving his hand into his pocket, Fin withdrew a cell phone. "I'll call for a bus! There are still some medics on standby outside."

Cragen tore off his jacket and rolled it around his hand, applying intense pressure to the oozing wound in Elliot's shoulder. He looked up when he heard munch shout.

"Captain, I found Casey, she's starting to come to." Munch was leaning over Casey, whispering to her, helping her regain consciousness.

Cragen yelled out to Fin and Munch. "Do either of you see Olivia?"

Both Fin and Munch scanned the garage for any sign of Liv, but she wasn't there.

Turning to face his Captain; understanding gripping him. "Captain, I think Liv was in the car."

Each of them turned, staring at where White's car had made its escape.

They could hear the wail of the bus's sirens as it closed in.


	23. Chapter 23

He was bleeding. Both the clip he took to the arm when Olivia tried to kill him, he'd have to punish her for that, and a bullet to the right thigh, courtesy of the black cop, the one they called Fin.

Fin wasn't around when they first put him away; otherwise he might have known what a formidable opponent he could be. Maybe he'd pay him a visit in a few months, thank him for the pain he caused.

For now he'd settle for the fulfillment of finally dispatching Detective Stabler, while Olivia watched. The rage in her tear streaked eyes was like an aphrodisiac; he'd have to use it, when he could get her alone.

He needed to find a secluded spot to tend to his wounds, knowing no hospital was safe. Maybe he'd kidnap a beautiful Doctor, let her work on him before he worked on her. Taking pleasure in this thought, this new plan, he barely felt the grief that came with losing his pupil. Strasberge's death was a tragedy, the world lost a true artist, but he would carry on in his name. To honor his fallen comrade.

That train of thought led to visions of Detective Stabler, lying in a pool of blood, and White could see the flag draped coffin, the weeping widow dressed in black, maybe he'd visit Stabler's wife and children after the funeral. After all, they needed a man in their lives now. And what of dear Olivia, now resting in the back seat? He would make sure to tell her of his plans, the details like foreplay; she would crumble with each word.

Oh the plans he had.

But first he needed to reach safety, and that meant getting free of this tomb and away from the prying eyes of the law.

Round and round, a continual spiral up to the surface, level 3, level 2, he had finally reached level one when he heard an ear splitting siren. Turning a final corner, he barely swerved to miss an oncoming ambulance headed for the scene below. Must be for the blonde bitch Olivia had managed to remove from the trunk. The thought of her body, he'd be sure to find her again, remembering Strasberge had liked her. So much unfinished bussiness.

His foot became heavy, pushing down steadily on the gas; he could see the exit, which was blocked by police barriers. He wasn't going to stop, barriers or not, enough G-force could clear them away.

His speed increased astronomically as he approached the wooden obstacles. Ducking down low, he braced himself against the impact of the collision. The car rocked from the force, the sights and sounds of wood splintering and scraping against the sides of the car was harrowing. Surprisingly the windshield stayed intact, but the rest of the car hadn't been so lucky and he made a note to switch up when he got a chance.

Clearing the perimeter, he saw several armed officers, some standing with guns pointed, others on the ground, laid out from the force. Ducking lower as bullets pelted the car, more glass shattering around him, he pushed the gas to the floor and turned the wheel sharply, carrying him into oncoming traffic. Avoiding the cars colliding from his entrance, he managed to maneuver through lanes, and away from the commotion of the hospital.

He could hear sirens in pursuit behind him, but they were distant, not ready for his sudden appearance. Smiling at the wreckage he left behind, he did like to make an impression after all.

Glancing in the rearview mirror, he could see Olivia's still form draped along the back seat. Thankful the impact hadn't brought her back from dreamland.

Turning off the main road, distancing himself from his previous route, they blended into the night.


	24. Chapter 24

Cragen watched as the ambulance carrying Elliot and Casey drove away, speeding back towards the surface.

From what he gathered while watching the paramedics work, Casey was stable but would need to spend a night in observation, to make sure the jolt hadn't affected her heart. Elliot was another story. He had sustained serious injuries, lost a lot of blood, but they were hopeful. He was being rushed to the nearest hospital to undergo emergency surgery.

Casey had barely been aware of her surroundings, let alone what had transpired before he and his team had arrived. Elliot hadn't regained consciousness at all, which scared him, but at least he didn't have to explain about Olivia. That knowledge would be detrimental in his current state.

He waited in the basement level for Warner and the CSU techs to arrive. Several uniformed officers were cordoning off the scene with the familiar yellow tape that signaled something bad had occurred here. Munch and Fin were gone; needing to join the search for White's vehicle, since finding out the pursuing officers had lost him. In a sea of law enforcement, a killer had just driven away, taking one of their own with him.

000000

Through the blackness she heard the familiar crunch of gravel under tires. She felt vinyl beneath her and the motion of a car moving along at a steady pace. Opening her eyes, she could only see darkness and thought she might still be unconscious, but as her eyes adjusted she could make out the silhouette of seats and the back of White's head.

She wondered how long she had been unconscious. Stealing a quick glance out the window above her, she saw stars in the sky. No buildings, no traffic sounds, wherever they were, it was out of the city.

She tried to move slightly, wincing from the pain in her arm; she realized her hands were secured together by handcuffs. They must have been El's. She had to fight back tears at the thought of him, knowing there was nothing she could do for him now. Not in this backseat, surrounded by darkness.

She knew if they reached their destination that White would win. He would touch her, try to break her, and she couldn't allow that. Tethered and barely clothed, she was vulnerable to his exploration, and the thought made her gag. She would die before she let that happen. With no other options, she realized that's what she'd have to do.

Remembering the ambush in the interview, she sat up slowly, poised to strike.

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Cragen nodded as Warner approached him. She smiled weakly, giving him a reassuring look. This case had taken a piece of them all and they knew it.

"You look like hell." She was a keen observer he thought.

"I feel even worse." He stole a glance at the blood soaked cement floor. Strasberge's body cold and unseeing, awaiting Warner's inspection.

Walking around the scene, Warner first inspected the blood splatter where no bodies remained. She moved in a strange dance, following patterns Cragen couldn't see. When she looked up to meet his gaze, there was concern in her expression.

"How many shots were fired?" She was on to something.

"We heard four, two close together, then two more almost simultaneously about a minute later. But I could be wrong; we were frantic, running to the scene." He once again stared at where Elliot had fallen.

"No, I think your right on the money." She motioned him over. "You see this pool, that's Elliot's right?"

Cragen nodded, feeling sick again.

"Now from the trajectory of the bullet in that man..." She pointed to Strasberge. "Elliot must have shot him, probably from back there." She turned, pointed towards the exit doors.

Cragen followed her motions, imagining how the scene had played out. Elliot getting the drop on White and Strasberge; Strasberge pulling a gun, Elliot would have no choice but to shoot.

Warner had leaned down near the spot where Elliot was found, inspecting the spatter and smudging, then she looked up into Cragen's eyes. "I don't think this is all Elliot's."

He was taken back. "What?"

She was pointing to separate spattering patterns, slightly to the right of Elliot's larger pool. "See these; they don't fit the trajectory of Elliot's wounds. From the blood spatter, the bullet came from over there." She turned and pointed behind where Cragen stood.

"Plus Elliot was only shot once, so we have to account for the other two bullets. I only see one wound in the man Elliot shot." She was standing up and walking behind him.

Cragen turned to follow her as she passed; spotting what she was looking at. A small smattering of blood could be seen. Not enough for a mortal wound, but someone had been hit.

Turning back to where Elliot lay, Warner lifted her arms in mock aim with an invisible gun. "Someone was crouched near Elliot, and my bets on it being Liv. Whoever shot Elliot must have approached her from behind, and they both shot. Both hitting their targets."

Cragen stared in horror at the second blood spatter near where Elliot had lain. Realization forming from Warner's words, he turned to face her. "Olivia's been shot."


	25. Chapter 25

His attention was on the road and she was thankful that the darkness had concealed her movements. She closed her eyes against the fear that threatened to engulf her. She knew she had a small window of opportunity, that what was about to happen was necessary to end White's rein of terror, but she needed a quiet moment of reflection.

Thinking over her life, she wondered if this is what was meant when it flashed before your eyes. She remembered her mom, the drunken nights, and the lack of love in her eyes for the daughter whose very existence brought so much pain, but for all that her mother had done, she hoped that she was at peace.

Then her thoughts turned to the job, the faces of all the victims, forever burned into her memories, those she could save gave her redemption, a sense that her life had a lasting effect on the world, those she couldn't save left her searching for forgiveness, something she had always denied herself.

Thoughts of the job lead to her companions, her colleagues, her friends. She loved them all and in that moment recognized that they were her family, more than she had ever had in her lifetime. She thought of Simon briefly, wishing she had been given more time to know him, but thankful he had come into her life.

She prayed that they were all safe, that she had gotten Casey to safety, and that wherever Elliot was, he was happy. El, her partner and best friend, the only man she had ever truly loved. Whether it was familial love or more, she had never allowed herself to make the distinction. All she knew at this moment was that her love for him was all encompassing. She wished more than anything that she could see him one last time, hear his voice, and know that he was ok. But the reality was that she could not. She only had this moment, and she had to make it count.

Opening her eyes again, she watched White drive in silence, eyes focused on the dark road ahead of him. She noticed they were on a rural highway, from the green signs littering the shoulder. She also noticed they were on the edge of a bluff, the edge was pitch, she could only imagine its steepness and what lay beyond.

It was now or never, her time had come.

Springing into action, Olivia flung her arms over White's head till her wrists were level with his jugular, then she pulled back sharply. The effect was instantaneous. Caught off guard by the attack, White struggled to extract her arms from around his neck, which was more than likely severely damaged. In doing so, he let go of the wheel, losing control of the car. The wheels spun out of control, the car swerving to the right, wheels finally losing traction as they went off the road.

It only took a second to clear the edge, but time felt as though it were standing still. Olivia, still struggling to hold onto a gasping White, felt her stomach lurch as the car plummeted. The sense of weightlessness sending both of them into orbit. She lifted off her seat, while White remained belted into his. They were rolling in the air, car twisting hood over trunk, then sideways, each time sending Olivia in a different direction, thrown around inside the car.

The sudden impact with the earth landed a crushing blow to both occupants. As the car made contact, Olivia was pitched to the right, clearing the window whose glass had been shot out by Fin earlier that night. As she passed through it, her body dragged across the remaining shards of glass.

Hitting the packed earth of the hill, Olivia's body continued to roll downward, following in the cars wake, finally coming to a stop in a clearing along a stretch of thick woods. The car had continued along its path, abruptly stopping when the hood made contact with a great oak.

Olivia was still, lying beneath a sheet of stars.


	26. Chapter 26

The icy breeze caressed her bare skin, piercing through the flimsy fabric of the hospital gown

She was lying on cold packed earth, wondering if she was dead, but the pain told her she wasn't, death wouldn't hurt this bad. Her entire body screamed in agony, too much to asses the damage. She imagined it wouldn't take long now; she was surprised she had even regained consciousness.

The chilled air and biting cold along her back was soon welcomed, helping to numb the pain and ease the inevitable transition. She closed her eyes, waiting in silence.

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Warner had left as the M.E.'s van carried away Strasberge's body. CSU was just finishing their work at the scene, when Cragen began his ascent back to the top level of the garage.

He had informed Munch, Fin and the rest of the search teams of Olivia's possible condition, the gravity of the situation weighing down on them all.

Halfway up, his cell phone began it's chirping, he guessed at another fruitless update, more of nothing on Olivia's whereabouts. Surprised when a female voice spoke, he had expected Munch or Fin. "_Captain Cragen_?"

"Yes." He stopped briefly, laboriously rubbing his eyes.

"_This is Dr. Cathcoat from Presbyterian Hospital; you asked to be informed of Mr. Stabler's condition_?" Her voice was automatic, clearly versed in updating patient's families and friends.

"Yes, I did. Thank you. What's his status?" Cragen was anxious, hopeful but afraid of her answer.

"_Mr. Stabler made it through surgery. It was touch and go for a while, but he is a fighter. We have him in surgical ICU until he is stable enough to be moved. The next 24 hours will be crucial, but his prognosis is good_." She was trying to reassure him.

"Thank you for the update. I'll check back in a few hours, make sure he is still holding strong." A small wave of relief rolled over him. At least Elliot was coming out of the woods, now they needed to find Olivia.

They said their pleasantries and clicked off the connection. He was about to put his phone back in the pocket of his slacks when the ringer went off again. Putting it back to his ear he heard a familiar voice, excitedly rushed.

"_Captain, its Munch. We got a lead. We know where she is_!"

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Why was death taking so long? Not that she wanted to die, but if the alternative was lying in pain, half frozen in the middle of nowhere, she'd gladly take death.

Her eyes were closed against the wind flowing through the valley, but she wanted to see the stars, if it would be her last view.

Opening her eyes, she saw darkness above her where the stars should be. Briefly she thought death had already come for her again, but the darkness was moving, and she saw a hellish face come into view. White was still alive and standing above her.

Through an incessant mantra pouring incoherently from his lips, she could make out two words, "Crazy" and "Bitch". This was inappropriately funny she thought, finding humor in the fact that a sociopath, a demented killer, thought she was crazy. _I'm a lunatic you asshole, still want to take me on?_

He moved in, his body pressing against hers, he was heavy, her breath catching in her lungs. She struggled against him, her attempts weakened by the trauma her body had sustained. She felt his hands on her, rough and punishing, violating her body.

Her hands were pinned beneath his hulking belly, unable to push him off. She felt his hand leave her face and search for his belt. She struggled even more, doing her best to wriggle away, her muscles spasming uncontrollably. She bit at his face and felt the sharp and biting slap from his free hand. She lay still, momentarily stunned.

During his struggle with his belt, Olivia's hand brushed against cold steel. Twisting her wrist, she wrestled with his waistband, like an impatient lover, her hand wrapping around retribution.

The blast was deafening, all she could hear was relentless ringing. Liquid warmth flowed over her hands and stomach, soaking into the fabric of her gown. The sickly warmth providing brief protection from the cold.

His body lay still, remaining pressed against hers. White had stopped moving, he was dead.

His life had drained out, coating her in gore.

She used her last ounce of strength to roll his lifeless mass off her body, the gun still gripped in her hands pointing to the sky.

Finally she could see the stars.


	27. Chapter 27

Hey all, I hope you enjoyed the story. I had alot of fun writing it and reading your reviews. This was a practice run of sorts for me, as I am actually in the beginning stages of writing my own fiction novel. But...if you like my style and want to see more SVU work, let me know. I'd be happy to write more. Got a few more stories and one shot ideas rattling around up there. Afterall, I love these characters. Wish they were mine, but don't we all.

Epilogue…of sorts…

Elliot smiled at her, his eyes beaming, radiating light. They were sitting together on a high cliff, overlooking a wide valley. The stars went on forever in the velvety black sky.

Turning from the view below, her eyes met his. He took her hand, warming it against the cold. "Where are we El?"

"Safe." She had missed his voice so much.

"Am I dead?" She wasn't afraid.

"No." He touched her face, his eyes burning into hers.

She looked away, tears welling up in her eyes; she stared again at the vast darkness, the starlit sky going on forever.

"Are you?" This time she didn't want to know the answer.

"Liv… Liv?" Elliot's voice sounded distant. Turning back to face him, but he was gone.

"El?" She was frantic, looking all around her, but he wasn't there. She couldn't lose him again. Not again.

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She heard voices above her, felt their presence surrounding her, but she couldn't see them, all she saw was the stars. _This is so strange._

She felt the pain come and go, the feeling of weightlessness grab hold of her, as if she were back in the car, soaring through the night.

Then soothing blackness engulfed her again.

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She opened her eyes, squinting against the light invading her vision. The room was sterile white and she immediately recognized it as being in a hospital. Not again she thought, this must be some kind of record. Then she wondered if any of it had happened, since the interview. Laughing nervously to herself, she wondered if she'd had a Dallas moment.

"Glad to see your smile again baby girl." Fin was sitting beside her bed.

She looked at him and felt tears welling up, which she quickly pushed back down. She needed to be strong. She smiled, realizing how much she had missed him, all of them. When she thought she'd never see them again.

Struggling to find her voice, she was surprised to hear its raspy sound. "How's Casey?"

"She's good Liv, you saved her." He had taken her hand, once again kneading his thumb into her palm reassuringly.

"Thank god…" She trailed off, remembering in stark detail Elliot's blood seeping through her hands. This time she could not stop the flood of tears threatening to destroy her.

"Liv… It's ok." He brought her into a soft embrace, brotherly and comforting.

"It's not, it won't ever be… I couldn't stop the bleeding, I couldn't save him…" Her body was shaking, trembling uncontrollably, the culmination of the past 48 hours taking its toll.

"Who, El?" Fin pulled back, bracing his hands on her shoulders. "Liv, Elliot's ok. You did save him. He lost a lot of blood, but he's alive and recovering."

A stillness passed over her. Could it be true? Could El really be alive, be ok, be safe? She had to see for herself before she would believe it. "I…he…" She looked up to meet Fin's gaze. "I need to see him. Please."

"You're hurt pretty bad Liv, I don't think you should move from this bed." He was shaking his head, turning to look at the door, as if needing help.

"I have to Fin…" She started to move, but her body screamed from the effort. She fell back against the pillow again, defeated.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?!" A familiar voice came from the doorway. With a smile on his face, Fin moved aside to reveal Elliot propped up in a wheelchair.

"Oh god, El…" Olivia couldn't believe her eyes, seeing his face again, having it not be a dream. "You're really ok."

"Yea, sheesh Liv, I've been shot before." His smile was all encompassing, lighting up the room even more.

She laughed, smiled back. "You bastard, you're not invincible you know."

He rolled over to the side of her bed. "Sure I am." He took the hand Fin had set down, retreating from the room. "How are _you_ Liv?"

She stared into his crystal blue eyes, knowing things were going to be ok. "Better now."

At that moment she forgot about White and Strasberge, about blood stained floors and twisted metal, and about her final thoughts in that car. All that mattered in this moment was that El was safe and sitting beside her.

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Olivia looked up into the faces of her colleagues, her friends.

"How did you guys find us?" She remembered lying under the stars, White's cold body beside her.

"Casey realized her phone was missing, and we realized it must have been left in White's car." Munch was beaming at the cleverness of it, his conspiratorial mind lapping it up.

"In the trunk." Olivia shuddered at the memory, thankful Casey's was a blank slate.

"Yea, what's great is they must have taken her purse for any money inside... Not realizing it would lead us right to them." Munch looked pleased with himself. "I was the one who got Morales to track it ya know."

Olivia laughed at the look he gave her. "Ok Munch, I guess I owe ya, how about some coffee when I get out of here?"

"Hmmm, I don't know, I heard you're not particularly talented at ordering coffee." Munch and the others laughed, the sound felt welcoming, felt right.


End file.
